Once Upon A Time In Italy
by M.R. Potter
Summary: fast forward several years into the future. harry is now a successful Seeker for England's National Quidditch Team, and Hermione a successful GM in a hotel in italy. fate brings them together, and it will ultimately decided if what was meant to be, will b
1. Default Chapter

A/N: After much plotting and research, I have come up with this new fic, and I promise that I will finish the other one. I just had too many things to do over the last school year. Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE

"Good practice everybody! With this kind of performance, we're sure to beat each and every single Quidditch team from here to kingdom come!" a happy Mr. Saunders reported to his team. They all grunted to him in response, their efforts of the last few hours catching up to them. "When do we get a break sir? We've been at it since last May, and the Quidditch cup is two months away. There's gotta be a break in between somewhere." A guy asked from behind the locker room.

"An excellent question Hawthorne. You see, your efforts have all been exemplary, so I deem it fitting to give you all a three-week break before you resume the final round of your practice for the Quidditch finals. We've just finished playing Ireland and France last week, and won. So consider the next three weeks as a reward for your efforts. " Mr. Saunders said, tapping his cane on the ground. The locker room burst into cheers and backslapping. But amidst all the cheer, Mr. Saunders noticed that a member of his team wasn't looking that happy.

"Potter, what's wrong? Don't you want to take a break?" he asked. Harry looked up at him, his cheeks flushing a little. "Will the Quidditch fields be opened during our break sir? I was thinking of coming then and practicing some more." He quietly answered. Mr. Saunders and the guys were not at all that surprised. Harry was the workaholic among them, coming even on Sundays and holidays to practice. He never seemed to have a life outside Quidditch, not even a girlfriend.

In fact, nothing seemed to tantalize Harry as much as it once did. About five years ago, he had broken up with his one girlfriend, because he caught her with someone else in a bar when he was out with his teammates. And instead of apologizing, she just gave him a shrug and told him that he was too calculated, too conventional. He was too boring, generally. That had knocked him down on the ground low, and he since then, he never took the time to reassess himself and make some changes. For him, it was easier to just live life the way he thought everyone else did. He was going through a crisis, and it managed to make things seem cumbersome to go through. Not even the company of his teammates made things bearable. And not even the weekly owls from Ron and Hermione could push him into changing.

"Life's just gotten to him, as usual. Come on Grandpa; there's a load of things that have been put on hold since Mr. Saunders here's been practicing us. Try living apart from the Quidditch field for once. " Hugh (the team Keeper) said, shaking his shoulders. Harry nudged him off. "No thanks Robert. I have to work on a few maneuvers anyhow." He mumbled. "Aww, come on Harry, you can't keep locking yourself away like this. Janina was a long time ago; you can't still be moping after her." Liam (one of the Beaters) said. Mr. Saunders cut in. "Ok boys, it's up to him if he wants to take a break or not. But Potter, I want to see you in my office before you leave alright?" he said.

"Yessir." Harry mumbled.

Harry knocked twice on the big teak door of Mr. Saunders' office. "Come in.," he said. Harry opened the door and stepped in. "Ah, Harry. Have a seat please, there's something I want to discuss with you." Mr. Saunders said, pointing to the chair in front of his. Harry took it, and then looked at Mr. Saunders' austere face. "It's regarding the three-week break I gave you." He said. Harry let out a breath and leaned back. This was going to get messy, he could tell.

" I noticed something about you Potter. You never were one to stop practicing until you got the maneuver right. Even if it took all night, you would still be at it. And you would also appear early for practices. You're a hardworking one Potter, and I must commend it. I rarely see someone like you on my team, and having coached for thirty years, I think I know a slacker from a hardworking person." He started. Harry smiled a little at this. As far as he could remember, Orville Saunders pushed his team as hard as he could, insulting them and challenging them to the end of their tether.

"And hardworking as you are Potter, I've also noticed that you don't seem occupied with anything else. Not with other hobbies and interests, no girlfriends, no nightlife. God Potter, when was the last time you had some real fun? It's not healthy to always be working, even if the work is fun. Too much of a good thing is bad for you." He continued. Harry opened his mouth to answer, when Mr. Saunders continued. "So before you break down or do something crazy, I order you to take a vacation. I will not open the Quidditch fields during the break, and I sincerely hope you will not try to break in. And I also want you to forget about Janina. She was five years ago, and not worth all this trouble, am I making myself clear?"

Harry nodded. "Good. And just to make sure I made a point, I'm making sure that you stay as far away from a Quidditch field as possible, the guys and I got a little something for you." Mr. Saunders said, pulling a ticket out. "We got you a round trip ticket to Italy for the next three weeks. As for accommodations, we set you up with a suite in Villa San Lorenzo, one of the five-star hotels in Italy. Hopefully, that will get you a chance to find your sense of adventure. I've heard that you were quite the troublemaker during your Hogwarts years. You leave in two days Potter, and those are nonrefundable tickets, so make sure you use them."

Harry took them and shoved them in his backpack. Mr. Saunders was right; he did work too hard. And besides, when was the last time he took a real vacation?

"I'll see you in three weeks sir. Say thanks to the guys for me." He said, standing up and walking out the door.


	2. The Letter

CHAPTER TWO 

A/N: Thank you for bothering to read my first chapter and for reviewing my other story. In this chapter, you might be able to discover a little more of the drama behind things. Enjoy!

_Hermione,_

_I sent this as soon as I got home. Mr. Saunders and the guys are sending me to Italy for three weeks forcing me to blow some steam off, and they have set me up with a suite in Villa San Lorenzo, the hotel you work in. If it's not too much trouble, is it okay if you meet me at the airport? I don't know my way around Italy, and my flight arrives at night. Please send a reply as soon as you can. I will arrive on the twenty first of April at about nine thirty PM._

_Can't wait to see you,_

_Harry_

Hermione pushed the hair out of her face and reread the letter. She didn't know how to feel, sad or happy. It was her biggest dream fulfilled, but in the same way, it was also one of her biggest nightmares. She couldn't wait to see Harry again, but then, seeing him would make her go crazy in love with him again. Not that she wasn't anymore, but it was on a lesser degree. She dated other guys, more good-looking guys, but it all came down to the same thing. None of them were good enough for her because they weren't as good as Harry. Not as handsome as Harry. Not as compassionate and sensitive as Harry.

She had been in love with him since the moment she met him on the train in her first year at Hogwarts. She didn't approve of his troublemaking ways at first, but she discovered soon after that he was the fire to her calm, the mess to her order. She also knew that he was a kind and loving person, and always made time to listen to her, even if he had a thousand things to finish for school. Even through his heartache with Cho Chang, she had steadfastly listened to him and offered advice for him, even if it hurt her so much. And when he found out that it was all a sham, she held him in her arms as he cried his heart out to her, knowing that he would never feel that way for her.

But however distant they were, Hermione still wrote to Harry constantly. Ron joined in, and they still kept in touch after all those years. Ron was now working with a top modeling company, and was now living in Rome, which wasn't so far from here. Apparently, he had filled out with muscles after school, and was hired the minute he graduated from college. Harry was working with England's Quidditch team, and was the reason she had their official team magazine owled in from England every month. But no matter how good the pictures were in the magazines, Hermione knew that the smiles he displayed for the world to see was only a mask, for she knew he was hurting so much inside. Damn that Janina.

He hadn't been the same since he caught her cheating on him. All the spunk and spark had gone out of him, and from the looks of the letters he had been sending, he was working himself exhausted. How she wished she could do something for him, and now it seemed that she was getting what she wanted. But the question was, would she survive it?

About a week later, at the airport 

Harry tiredly walked down from the plane's steps, moving on autopilot. He had already been harassed by several news reporters on his way here, and while on the plane, he couldn't sleep. He just hoped to hell that Hermione hadn't forgotten him.

After claiming his bags from the baggage claim, he walked out of the terminal, where the cool air hit him in the face. He looked about the deserted reception area and saw a few people behind the gate. Behind an old lady hugging her son, stood a tall woman wearing all black and a hat. Her bushy brown hair was flying around her, framing her face. Her hands reached out to wring it into a bun under her head. Funny though, the smooth, effortless way she did that was exactly the way a friend of his did…

Hermione finished twisting her hair up when she looked up again. She was looking for Harry, whose plane supposedly touched down about fifteen minutes ago. The weather was getting chilly, and it was due to rain anytime soon. She glanced at the exit and saw that most of the people were filing out, but she couldn't see the entire line because a guy stood directly in her path. She frowned at him, but to her surprise, he smiled instead of frowning back. Right then it hit her. She would know that smile anywhere.

Harry walked towards her and stopped to stand directly in front of her. "Hermione Granger?" he asked in a mock-serious tone. She decided to humor him by imitating his tone. "Harry Potter?"

His smile widened. God he was handsome. "Hi 'Mione. You're looking good." He said. A corner of her mouth twitched up in amusement. "And you're looking…" _Older. You look older._ She wanted to say.

"…fit. How was the flight?" she quickly asked, hoping to cover up her bluff. "It was good. A few reporters here and there. But I'm really tired." He sighed. Hermione took a good look at him under the fluorescent light of the reception area. He seemed to have aged about fifteen years since the last time she saw him, even if he was younger than her by a couple of months. And it had only been about five years since they last saw each other.

"Of course. Here, I'll take this." She briskly said, reaching for his bag. He swung it out of her reach, but instead, rested his free elbow on her shoulder. She could feel him supporting himself on her, and in that simple gesture, she could already feel the summary of their entire relationship. But she didn't have the time to moon over that. At least, not now.

After stuffing his bags in the trunk, he shuffled to the front seat and buckled himself in. Before she got in though, she gave herself a mental slap on the face. _Don't screw anything up Granger. He's exhausted, frustrated, and can't listen to your drama right now when he's living in one. _

When she got into the driver's seat, Harry was already snoring in his place. A small sigh escaped her lips. She was safe for now.


	3. Questions

A/N: In a moment of unsolicited insanity, I want to thank all the supportive readers of this story. It's not one of my easiest projects, but I have to say, it's definitely one of my more complex ones. Enjoy this chapter!

CHAPTER THREE 

The next morning, Harry woke up to the sound of a bird chirping outside his window. Sunlight streamed in through his window, and he raised an arm to shield his eyes. The air around him was hardly recognizable, and not even the furniture in his room seemed to be his. _Wait a minute…I'm in Italy, _he thought to himself. He sat up in bed and tried to remember how he got to it. He came up with only memories of the airport and getting into Hermione's car. Nothing more.

_Hermione!_

Damn! He'd forgotten all about her! He took a quick glance around and saw that his luggage had been neatly unpacked and put away, with even his slippers on the side of his bed. He looked down at himself and saw that he was stripped to a plain white shirt and boxers and his socks. Then he inwardly chuckled to himself. Hermione must have remembered that he didn't like his feet cold or he'd wake up.

Someone knocked on the door.

Thinking it was Hermione, he quickly grabbed his robe, which was hanging off the back of a chair and took a quick look at himself in the mirror. He didn't want to bother with his glasses. When he opened the door, he saw a tall man with curly hair and an elegantly arched nose standing in front of him. "Buon giorno (good morning) sir, I am Vittorio. Signora Granger has assigned me to see to it that you are comfortable. She says that she would like to do it herself, but she is too busy and that you wouldn't really notice." The man said, in a lightly accented English. Harry blushed lightly. Hermione definitely remembered that he was a neat freak and that his idea of comfortable was everything in its place. "Well, Signora Granger was right. Please, come in," he said, backing away from the door. Vittorio strode in and took a quick look at the place. "Ah. Everything looks to be in the same place as we left it last night." He remarked, smiling.

"Uh, yeah. About last night. How did I get into bed? I only remember as far as the airport, but nothing else. And I definitely don't remember getting changed for bed last night." Harry asked. Another smile from Vittorio. " You arrived in Signora Granger's car fast asleep in the front seat at about eleven last night. You couldn't be awakened, so it took about three bellhops to carry you to your room and another two to carry your bags. I took the liberty of unpacking for you and stripping you down into your nightclothes. And Signora had a very strange request for me last night, and that was to leave your socks on. The answer to which, I will never know." Vittorio explained. Harry laughed. "I don't like cold feet during the early morning because I wake up right away." Vittorio answered with a serene smile and set about straightening the bed. "If sir has nothing else to discuss with me, I suggest that you take a bath now because Signora is waiting for you in the breakfast room. If you need me, just ask for me."

"Thanks Vittorio. And please, just call me Harry," he said, gathering his clothes and making for the bathroom.

Hermione looked at her watch and sighed. Vittorio was probably still getting Harry up. She had made sure she assigned Vittorio to Harry, knowing that she could depend on him to take care of Harry in her stead. Last night he had been a wreck, attracting funny looks from the people who were staying at the hotel.

"Morning 'Mione," a voice said from behind her. She turned back and saw Harry walking towards her, looking absolutely adorable. His hair was still damp from the shower and his clothes were looking a little rumpled. "Harry, how are you feeling?" she asked, as he took a seat across her. "Still a little tired, but I probably slept the best I did since, well, for a long time." He replied. She exhaled and motioned for a waiter to come take their orders. "I heard from Vittorio that you told him to leave my socks on." He said. "I only remember you too well Harry. And besides, here at Villa San Lorenzo, we strive to make each guest feel like he's at home, only better." She grinned. Harry looked around at the decorating and asked, "Can you tell me more about the place?"

"We're a strictly Wizard hotel here, and extra precautions have been taken to make this safe for Wizards. We're located about two hours from the airport and one hour and forty-five minutes away from the city. This village is very small and only wizards live here. It's Unplottable, the whole thing is, and when a Muggle stumbles upon it, all he sees is a rotted-out barn." She said. Harry nodded in reply. "And they made you general manager." He said.

"Yeah. By some unguarded moment of insanity." She smiled, in spite of herself. A waiter came by with their coffee, and while Hermione was adding milk and sugar to hers, Harry was watching her. "You haven't changed a bit 'Mione. You're still as efficient as you were back in Hogwarts. Save for the way you look. Italy agrees with you." He said. The unexpected compliment jolted Hermione for a moment, and that caused her to drop the whole packet of sugar into her mug. "Oh damn, that was clumsy. Waiter!" she sighed, raising an arm to attract the waiter's attention.

"No Hermione, I'll switch with you. I usually have hot chocolate in the mornings instead of coffee. And I haven't touched mine yet." Harry said, switching their mugs over. "Signora?" the waiter asked, glancing for a while at Harry. "Can you please replace this coffee with hot chocolate?" He asked, handing him the mug. The waiter took the mug from him and walked away, and Harry saw that Hermione's face was as red as the tomatoes that adorned the walls. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked. She shook her head wildly, still not looking up at him. "Hermione, what's gotten into you? One minute you're fine, the next you're as spastic as Neville. Remember him?" Harry asked, bending his head over to peer at Hermione's face.

"Of course I remember him. I don't know what's up with me either." She managed. _Stupid answer Hermione. Just a look at him makes your brainwaves go all wonky, and that whole 'Italy agrees with you' thing has made you lose control. And he probably noticed the whole thing, so snap up and get straight, _her brain reprimanded. She felt the color in her face slowly recede, and when she looked up, she noticed that Harry was still looking at her. "Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded, while taking a deep breath. "What do you want to do today? There's a whole load of things that you might want to see here." She asked, in an attempt to redeem herself. "Don't you have work to do?" he asked. She smiled a little, and then said, "I can knock off for today I guess. We really do have the most efficient staff here, and the most I ever do is to clear up anything that dissatisfied guests may say about us. And for staff members of course. It's really no problem Harry. I made sure I finished all my work for this week, which left my schedule clear for you. What do you want to see first?" she asked. "Well, I couldn't bring my broom in here…Customs might think I'm trying to ship in something illegal or what. So maybe the local bookstore first? I need to pick up a phrasebook or a dictionary. Then you can lead the way." He answered. "It's settled then. I'll meet you after breakfast." She said.

The waiter arrived with a fresh cup of hot chocolate and their orders for breakfast (fruit platter sprinkled with cottage cheese for Hermione, blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon and eggs for Harry). "God Harry, that's more than I can eat in a month. Your appetite hasn't changed a bit." Hermione incredulously said. He shrugged. "Fruit for breakfast only works for those skinny model people, not for hardworking sods like me. I usually work this lot off at Quidditch practice. And pay attention to your own plate; it's not like I can afford to eat like a rabbit everyday." He jabbed back, his mouth partway full. Hermione sighed in mock exasperation and just kept eating anyway. She noticed that the Harry in the letters and the Harry in front of her held a stark amount of difference. He actually seemed like he was enjoying himself. Satisfied with the situation she started to eat her breakfast, and tried not to make herself look like some spastic nutcase.

As promised, they were both in the car and making for the local bookstore. The place was quite modern for its size, with coffee bars and shops lining every street they passed. The people were also young and stylish, and they didn't seem to recognize Harry, even if he was seated in the front of Hermione's Mustang. "So tell me again; why are you in Italy?" she asked. Harry shrugged. "The guys felt I needed to blow off some steam. It worked, in a way. I feel more relaxed, and I don't have to worry about reporters. And I actually looked forward to not playing Quidditch, although I miss my broom a lot." He sighed, not taking his eyes off the street. Hermione didn't press him for more information, but she knew that there was something more he wasn't telling her. He would get around to doing so…in time.

Hermione stopped in front of an old strip mall that had newly renovated shops in front. "This is my favorite place to go for new books. For some reason, they stock up on more books in English than in Italian or in any of the local languages. I'm pretty sure you'll find a good dictionary here." She said, turning the car off and getting out. Harry followed her into a stylishly shabby shop where books lined tall bookshelves and workers dusted the shelves. "Buon giorno Signora Granger. I am sorry to say that the book you ordered has not yet arrived. But I think I have a new novel from a Mr. Tom Clancy…" an elderly woman rattled on as she tottered towards them on an ornately carved cane.

"That's Mama Sofia. She owns this bookshop, and is one of the few people who can speak straight English. But it's best if I do the talking; she can go on for ages if you let her." Hermione whispered discreetly to Harry. Harry nodded, not exactly paying attention to the old lady. "And who do we have here? Another handsome young man would be a nice addition to the bookstore staff. Goodness knows; the young people hardly prefer to read anymore. Maybe you could attract the young ladies into reading eh?" Mama Sofia cackled, leaning forward and pinching Harry's cheek, brushing Hermione aside. "Mama, we need an Italian-English, English-Italian dictionary. What do you recommend?" Hermione asked. The lady cocked her head up at Hermione, then answered with vigor and bustle. "Well, I will recommend a few titles, but you have to tell me this young man's name first. He seems so genuine." Harry blushed a little, but stuck a hand out. "Um…buon giorno ma'am. I'm Harry." He meekly offered. Instead of shaking his hand, she pulled him into her arms for a hug. "That's the boy…well, now that we have that finished, do we want a dictionary or not?" she chuckled, not letting go of Harry's arm.

After Harry paid for his dictionary, he was almost glad to get out of the store. "That old lady is worse than any reporter back home." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. The gesture caught Hermione's attention; he always did that when he was nervous or just very uncomfortable. "She's been widowed for over forty years now, and her husband, according to her was quite a good looking guy. You'll have to excuse her." Hermione chuckled. Harry smiled a little, and settled back into his seat. Things were definitely looking up, and he was looking forward to spending the day with Hermione.

"Where are we going now?" he asked. "There is something I want you to see, but you have to promise you won't get mad" she smiled. "I promise; but where are we going?" he pressed. "You'll have to see for yourself Harry, it's going to be good." She teased. Harry sighed, but smiled at the same time. No use arguing with Hermione over things like that, she was never going to give.

"I guess I can't argue can't I? You could always keep a secret, no matter how juicy it was." He said to her. "Well, what can I say? I'm just sooo trustworthy!" she saucily smiled, tossing her head back for effect. "Yeah, you are. Anyone could trust you with their life." He replied, before leaning back and enjoying the view.

_But can you trust me with your heart Harry? Will you?_ She quietly thought to herself.


	4. Will He?

A/N: The last chapter shows a more languid, relaxed Harry, as opposed to the ones we see in the first two chapters. He's slowly learning to loosen up as he takes in the beauty of Italy around him. Many thanks to the wonderful reviewers; I could not have constructed this next chapter without your advice and critiques. Any suggestions would be nice…and if anyone can send me some basic Italian phrases that would be very nice. Just use the subject title 'Italian words'. Enjoy this next chapter!

CHAPTER FOUR 

Hermione drove through the modern part of the city to the more bucolic edge of it. Rolling farmlands started to appear more frequently than buildings, and the fresh smell of grass and flowers replaced the scent of the city. "Hermione, you're not planning to kidnap me are you?" Harry teased, lightly elbowing her. "Maybe Harry. But we're almost there. Why don't you try counting the cows or something?" she suggested, not taking her eyes off the road. "Nah…why don't you tell me about what you've been up to lately?" he asked, reclining his seat back a little and turning his head to glance at Hermione.

"There's nothing much to tell Harry. I just went to college where they taught how to manage a restaurant or a hotel, and when I interned in the Villa for a few months, they decided to hire me right after I graduated. Ever since then, I've been working there. Mom and Dad wanted me to become a dentist, just like them. It was a bit of a surprise when I said that I wanted to go into the hotel business, but they let me do it anyway." She said, taking a turn into a small dirt road. "Hermione, you just missed the main road; where are you now?" Harry pointed out. She drove for a little while longer before stopping in front of a farm with a sprawling vineyard behind it. "Harry, I know that you've abstained from alcohol for the past few years, but I'm telling you; you haven't gone to Italy if you haven't helped make wine." She grinned, turning off the car engine. Much to her relief, Harry didn't look offended. On the contrary, he looked rather pleased. "Wow…you don't see this back at home." He said, vaulting out of the car.

They both walked up to the house in front where an old, skinny gentleman sat with a newspaper sat on the loggia. "Good morning sir! It's me, Hermione!" Hermione near shouted at the old man. "Eh? What's wrong with your knee?" the old man asked, lowering the newspaper and looking at them. "Oh, Hermione! Good to see you again. And who's your friend?" he asked, peering at Harry with sharp brown eyes.

"Harry, this is Mr. Giatonni, the leading vintner for miles around. He's probably the only one who makes wine the old way. Mr. Giatonni, this is Harry. He's come to visit from London." She introduced. "Buon giorno Harold. The rains just came in time this year, so we harvested our grapes last week. We are all ready now for pressing!" Mr. Giatonni said, standing up and sweeping them into his house. Hermione pulled Harry's shirttail from behind, and gestured to his feet. Harry looked down and saw that Hermione was slipping off her sandals. Harry shucked his loafers off and toed off his socks. Hermione inwardly smiled at him, and then let him proceed inside the building.

"This is a very old building Harold. My great-grandpapa, Lorenzo Giatonni built it with his two sons and three nephews. Mama Giatonni planted the vineyards by herself. Now, we have this beautiful vineyard that makes good wine." Mr. Giatonni rattled off, almost by rote. Harry tagged behind Hermione, following her lead as she disinfected her feet in a footbath near a large oak door. Then they put their feet in some fluffy white slippers and passed through the door where large wooden vats were sitting. Each of the vats had to be at least five feet tall with a ladder attached to the sides. "Well, what are you waiting for eh? Get in!" Mr. Giatonni said, giving Harry a small shove towards one of the vats. Harry scrambled towards the nearest one and helped Hermione clamber into it. He followed after her, and when they were both settled in amongst the mass of grapes, Mr. Giatonni shouted from below, "Just follow Hermione, she'll know what to do!"

Harry looked at Hermione, obviously puzzled. She smiled at him, "Just step on the grapes and try not to fall in. Roll up your pants if it helps." She said, holding on the hooks dangling above her head and trampling on the grapes. Harry did the same, and soon, they were both having a good time with the grapes. Whatever stress Harry had left over completely vanished, as a happy flush spread across his cheeks. A dimple appeared near his mouth and he was actually smiling now. Hermione felt a rush of affection. They trampled on them until they were mostly a greeny-white pulp, and then they both got off the vats and wiped their feet on the foot towel near their shoes.

They did a couple more of the vats until lunchtime, and around then Harry was covered in pulp and juice from the thigh down. His shirt was speckled with some of the juice and the skin, and he was feeling extremely happy and worked out. Hermione was just as messy as Harry, and upon seeing the look on Harry's face, she felt like her heart would burst. Traces of the Harry she once knew and had always loved were starting to come back to her. She could not have wished for anything more.

Once they had cleaned up a little, they thanked Mr. Giatonni, who looked ecstatic at the number of vats they had done. "Thank you Hermione and Harvey; you did an old man plenty of good." He smiled, bowing them off his front porch. On the way to the car, Harry was grinning from ear to ear. "That beats an hour of running on the treadmill any day Hermione, that was great. Where are we going next?" he asked. "I thought that we should visit my friend Maria who lives not too far from here. I always go to her house and help out with the chores after here." Hermione said, getting into the car.

"Maria? Isn't she the one you told me about? The one who has one niece and owns a snippy old cow who doesn't let anything with a bucket near her?" Harry asked. Hermione grinned. "Well, you remember that letter. Yeah that's her. So maybe we can have lunch with her and help her out after. It's a fair bit of farm work, but it's good for you."

"No problem. As long as we can get something to eat for it." Harry said, reclining backwards in his seat. Hermione ruffled his chest with a smile. Obviously Harry's enormous appetite was setting in.

They drove further on until they reached a wide expanse of farmland with different kinds of plots arranged strategically around the house. All kinds of plants seemed to grow there, from corn to pumpkins and an exotic kind of flower Harry had never seen before. "Wow Hermione, your friend is probably running for agriculturist of the year. Are you sure she won't mind that I'm covered in grape skins?" Harry asked, obviously awed at the sight. Hermione looked him over. _I know I wouldn't mind Harry. Not a bit._ Hermione shook off the thought, but that couldn't keep the smile off her face "I'm sure Harry. Maria won't mind."

They made their way to a cozy cottage where a large stack of firewood was standing by the door with an axe embedded in a tree stump near a water pump. Chickens clucked angrily as they passed by, and an old cow mooed her discontent. A tall woman, about fifty-two years old sat on the lanai snapping beans into a metal tub. Her eyes didn't miss a thing; the minute she saw Hermione walking with Harry, she waved her wand at the stack of beans next to her, and they began snapping themselves. "Well, Hermione. It's been awhile since you've come to visit." She said in a sweetly lilting voice. Hermione grinned and hugged the lady tightly. "We just came back from Signore Giatonni's vineyard. Is there anything we can do for you here? I brought a friend by the way. Harry, this is Maria." Hermione introduced. Harry shook Maria's hand, but she insisted on kissing him on both cheeks. "Ciao Harry. Well, he's a sturdy one. He won't faint at the fields today. We need to get the soil turned over near the pumpkin patch. The potatoes won't grow as well. Surely you won't mind doing that yes?" she asked, patting his arm affectionately. Harry gave her his most charming grin. "Not at all ma'am. " he replied, giving her his most charming smile.

Maria fed them both a substantial lunch of crostini and sundried tomatoes, accompanied with a light grappa. Her ten year old niece Giulia watched them shyly, keeping more to herself than talking. Harry kept her amused though, by showing her magic tricks and joking with her. The sight of the two of them together filled Hermione's heart with tenderness. Watching Harry play with such a shy girl when he was little more than a kid himself was such a treat. His dimples showed themselves to no limit, and knowing that he was happy made Hermione feel even better.

After about an hour after lunch, Maria handed Hermione a spare set of clothes to work in (a pair of Bermuda shorts, a loose shirt and a pair of flip-flops) and to Harry, she simply looked him up and down and said, "There's an extra pair of shorts by the plow. You can change into that." Harry looked at Hermione, who stifled a giggle, then the girls shooed him out of the house so they could change. Once Harry was out of the house, Maria turned to Hermione with her hands on her hips and shot her a teasing scowl. "You never told me Harry Potter was coming to visit. And that he's so good-looking." Hermione blushed as she changed out of her sticky blouse and into the shirt. "I like him Hermione. He's funny and he made coins come out of my ears." Giulia solemnly said. Hermione smiled at the little girl. "He's a very funny guy Giulia. Did you have fun during lunchtime?" she asked. Giulia nodded energetically. Maria laughed at the two of them. "I am willing to wager that you like him too?" she hinted.

Hermione's hands stalled as she was putting on the shorts. "Um, well, he's one of my closest friends. But nothing personal you see." _Yeah right. And James Bond drives a pink army tank. With multi-colored polka dots._ Maria gave her a look. "Okay then. But mind, if nobody's after him…you know who to call." She winked. Giulia tugged on her aunt's skirt. "Auntie, don't you think we should be going now? Harry's already outside."

Hermione yanked her shirt on and shoved her flip-flops on before running out the door. Harry was still in his grape-stained shirt, but his shorts and loafers fit the outfit well. "My Harry. You could do as a farm hand any day. Come on, I'll show you how to get the plow attached and going." Maria said, taking Harry by the arm and leading him to the plow. "I'll get the hayloft started!" Hermione shouted, starting towards a large stack of straw inside the barn. A pitchfork was situated near the watering trough, and the horses nickered in greeting. She plunged the fork into the straw and pitched it into the loft that was just above her head. Fragments of the strands floated down, illuminated by the ray of sunshine that filtered through a crack in the rafters. It was hard work, but that kept her thinking about the uproar her feelings had set about in her.

She had half the stack down when Maria bustled in. "Darling! You HAVE to take a look at this." Hermione looked over her shoulder and wondered at the blush her friend had on her face. "Whoa. What?" she asked. Maria took the pitchfork from her hands and steered her to the edge of the door. "Look. Over there." She whispered, in a stage voice. Hermione took a peek, and her heart began hammering again. Harry was working the plow with Giulia riding behind the handlebars. Without a shirt. Sweat glistened on his muscles, and the muscles in his arms and chest bunched as he pushed the plow through the soil. The shorts rode low on his hips, and his shirt was tied around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes.

Oh, but this sight was a treat on her eyes, and Hermione didn't know her jaw had fallen slack until Maria prodded her. But funny though. Despite the physical changes Harry had gone through, it had not changed the love she felt for him. It just went to show how much she deserved Harry. "Look Hermione. Suppose you tell me what's going on. " Hermione turned around and leaned her back against the door. "I've been in love with him for the longest time. And even if I thought time would somehow change it, I was wrong. Now that he's back, I don't suppose I have a chance with him anymore. He's got a whole new lifestyle, one that I don't fit in." she sighed, the memories coming back to her.

Maria patted her shoulder. "That was the biggest pile of chicken doo that I have ever heard. Anyone can see that you two were meant for each other, particularly because you seem to have something he needs. Hermione, I don't know what happened to make you think this way, but all I can tell you is this: don't let him get away. He's one in a million." She said.

Hermione glanced once more. "I did that once. I'm not going to let it happen again."

A/N: I know. I knoooww! I HAD to turn Harry into this hardbody hunk because, well, it somehow shows that even if the physical side of Harry was completely different, she still wanted him, shirt on or off. But wait until you guys see Ron…if you thought Harry was good-looking, Ron is…uh…you'll see. Ciao for now!


	5. Answers

A/N: Wow. I am so happy with the reviews you guys sent back! Thanks for all the creative criticism and for the blurbs…it's almost addicting. I'm probably pushing the line between conceited and an FB junkie, but it's such a warm, fuzzy feeling. In this chapter, its mostly dialogue, but you will be able to learn a little more of Hermione's feelings towards Harry, as seen by Vittorio the butler. Enjoy!

CHAPTER FIVE 

The market was bustling with life, from the smallest kid running about with a kite trailing after him to the group of old men sitting around a chessboard, shouting directions at the pieces. The vendors shouted in different volumes and tones of Italian, hawking their wares and bargaining with their customers over the prices. Everywhere Harry looked, there always seemed to be something special to look at, vegetable or fruit. Large baskets overflowing with rich red tomatoes were situated near tarps with moist brown taro roots laid out on it. Fruits were dangling from every sort of container imaginable, and they were not your average apple or banana. More exotic fruits lined the stalls, with sweet-smelling peaches and tart tangerines coloring the wooden stalls or the raffia baskets they were sold in. There were eggplants, large and purple; radishes that seemed to be longer than the hands that waved them about. The Italian market was probably one of the most interesting places he had ever been in.

"Sir, keep your eyes about you. There are many pickpockets in this market; one would not want his wallet stolen." Vittorio chided over choosing ripe pears. Harry automatically patted his back pocket, and sighed in relief when he felt his wallet still there. It had been awhile since he had done that; when he and Hermione had gone out around town, people there were so friendly and charming that he hadn't had to worry about his wallet. And besides, in a tiny town like that, everyone already knew each other. "It's still there Vittorio, don't worry. Hey, are you sure you won't let me pick out anything?" Harry asked. Vittorio's upper lip stiffened. "I take this business of choosing food very seriously sir. I'm positive." He answered. Harry snickered inwardly at his mischievous streak.

Hermione had been busy that day, and Vittorio had announced that he would go to the market and do his shopping there. He also needed to run a couple of errands, and he asked if Harry wanted to come. Wanting to see more of Italy, Harry jumped at the chance. So far, all Vittorio had allowed Harry to do was choose the peaches. But Harry was okay with just glancing around the place and looking at the knickknacks and ends, and of course, dodging curious glances from the stall keepers. Only that part of the whole vacation hadn't changed. He was feeling happier and more optimistic than ever, and he wasn't missing Quidditch as much as he had anticipated. He looked forward to the company of Hermione, and to the daily outings they had been sharing for the past week. Sometimes she'd take him somewhere new, or he'd just tag along on her regular errands, like doing the groceries or paying her bills.

At the thought of Hermione, Harry let out a sigh. She always was to him a too-smart geek who didn't know how to let loose and associate with people. Her sheer intelligence and obsession with grades left him intimidated at first, but as time passed by, he found that she had a loving heart that dispensed good, sensible advice whenever he needed it. She was also the one who taught him how to deal with his crushes or heartaches and also comforted him when the girls he was after let him down. Yet he never really saw Hermione with another guy. She and Viktor Krum had gone their separate ways, he to his Quidditch team, and she to university. Suddenly, he became curious. He glanced around him and saw that he had unconsciously followed Vittorio around to the exit of the market towards the car.

"Hey Vittorio. How long have you known Hermione?" he asked. Vittorio looked at him, then replied, "I've known her since she interned at the Villa. And when she was made General Manager, I've been looking after her ever since. Why do you ask?" he asked, opening the back seat and setting his purchases inside. "Well, I don't know. I haven't seen her for nearly five years now. I just want to know what she's been up to." Harry shrugged. When they both got into the car, Vittorio started the engine and started driving back to the Villa. "As you might very well know, Signore Granger is probably the most hardworking manager we have ever seen. She works very hard, and we're starting to get a bit more publicity now. We all admire and respect her, if we're not intimidated by her." Vittorio said in a soft voice.

Harry chuckled. "That's how we used to feel about her back at school. She always topped the year when it came to grades, and all the teachers would always pressure us to be more like her. It kind of got on our nerves, but she grows on you." He said. Vittorio didn't laugh. Instead he nodded with much solemnity. "I know that sir. It's almost demeaning to us males when she starts opening her mouth and giving us instructions. But in the end, we have all developed a certain degree of affection for Signore. But on a strictly professional level, I assure you. " He answered. Harry inwardly sighed, but he didn't quite understand why that was such a relief. "I assume that you and Signore have a…past?" he asked. Somehow, the question made Harry squirm. It was hard to imagine Hermione as anything more than a sister, although these last few days had made him reconsider slightly the current state of their relationship.

"No Vittorio. We're just very good friends, that's all. I probably would never have stood a chance against all these good-looking Italian men who flock around her." He said, trying to disguise the faint note of resentment in his voice. Vittorio let out a snort. "Signore…she works too hard for any man to stick with her. How can a man fully love her for who she is if she does not stand still long enough for them to appreciate her? She has always been the passionate type of woman, but it is heartbreaking to see her break up with one boyfriend after another." Harry was struck with this news. Never before had he heard about this problem she was having, because she never mentioned it in her letters.

"Is that so?" he breathed, unwilling to believe this. Vittorio solemnly nodded. "That was the trend until about a year ago. There was a special man, his name was Alex. He came to see her everyday, and he would take her out for dinner. They were on for a year, until he broke up with her. Ever since, Signore has never been the same. She keeps a discreet distance between her and men, and graciously turns them down if they hint at any signs of permanency." He explained. Harry had a hard time getting a breath in. He knew that Hermione was something of a control freak-cum-workaholic, but he felt that that could be overlooked if the right guy came along.

"But I tell you this in full confidence sir. I trust that you will not tell her what I have been telling you." He said, shooting him with a straight-on look. Harry nearly cowered in his seat; damn, but there was something strange about this man that made him want to shrink into a ball. "Alright Vittorio, I promise. Please, just don't give me that look again." He nervously laughed. Vittorio's attention was now focused on the wheel and the road. "I guess that now I've started, I feel that you should know this as well. She has an extreme fixation on the National Quidditch team of England. She has your monthly magazines owled in straight from the publishing company. Yet I've never known her to get tickets for a game or place bets on an outcome or anything. In fact, were it not for the magazines, one would never guess she was a fan. Why is that?" he asked. Harry was once again, amazed. It was startling how much information this man could derive from just observing people. "I guess I won't know the answer as well as you will. She's never had a thing for Quidditch, not even at school." He shrugged, leaning back into the seat. Vittorio gave an odd glance towards Harry. "Hmm. Curious." He said to himself, taking a turn back into the city.

Hermione was sitting at her desk, sifting through the papers she had to file and organize. She had been working nonstop since that morning, and she found that she was missing Harry more than she expected. Ever since they spent the day in the countryside, they had always gone out together. She enjoyed his company, and even the goofy way he tried to speak in Italian was charming as well as it was endearing.

Just then, a tapping sound came from the window. She looked and saw a familiar snowy-white owl with a letter tied to its leg. When she stood up and let the owl in, it let out a soft hoot of recognition and came to rest on the edge of her desk, holding its leg out. "Hedwig! How nice to see you again!" she exclaimed, patting the owl on the head. It burrowed into her palm affectionately, and then she untied the letter. "This is from Harry, I'll suppose." She spoke to herself more than to Hedwig. The letter read:

_Hermione,_

_May I request the pleasure of your company tomorrow night at dinner? I will be waiting for you at the restaurant of the hotel at around seven o'clock in a tux. See you there?_

_Harry_

The letter made Hermione's heart jump, so she reached for a pen and quickly wrote a reply, then tied the note back onto Hedwig's leg. After one last hoot of thanks, Hedwig flew out the open window.

_Harry,_

_I would be glad to. I'll see you tomorrow night then._

_Hermione._

A/N: Thanks for the words by the way guys; you'll definitely be seeing them more in the next chapters. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed typing it. Although I wish there was more that I could say about Hermione's dating history…but we'll get that bit fixed up, I promise. Thanks you guys!


	6. Dinner For Two and My Memories

A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far. Special word out to SuiJin…whatever you meant by stalking. Anyway, I should warn you that in this chapter, Hermione is going to be a little on the drama queen side. But whatever, you know? I think I'm going to make this chapter a bit below standards in terms of length, but hopefully you will forgive me for this.

CHAPTER SIX 

It was nearing 7:05. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his suit, and fingered the soft pink rose. The minute Hedwig had arrived with the response tied to her leg, he hadn't been easy with himself since. Everything had to be perfect; from the way he styled his hair to the perfectly pressed tux that he was sporting. It was a good thing he bothered packing a suit at all, since he didn't think he was going to be attending any formal occasions.

He took a quick look around, and coming towards him from the welcome desk was Hermione.

It was as if he had forgotten to breathe. The intimidating figure of neatness and efficiency was gone, and in its place was a gorgeous and carefree doppelganger. She was wearing a soft blue dress with strappy sandals. Her hair had been tamed down into diminutive little waves that framed her face and brought out the color in her eyes. This was a side Harry had never seen before, and he had to catch his jaw before it dropped off entirely.

"Harry! You look great." Hermione genially smiled, coming closer and giving him a polite kiss on his cheek. Harry's face automatically turned to the side to kiss her cheek, but he smelled the faint scent of some exotic flower and a scent that was all Hermione's. His lips lightly brushed the side of her neck when she drew back. "Hermione…you're….gorgeous. Look at you! I haven't seen you look this great since the Yule Ball in our Fourth Year." he faintly said. Hermione blushed a light pink. "I never found much occasion for which to dress up for anyway. And believe me, this dress is a lot more uncomfortable than it lets on." She grinned, taking in Harry in his tux. She nearly melted away into a lump of nothing when she saw the whole picture of Harry. His tux was charcoal grey with a bowtie. The cut showed off his broad shoulders and well-proportioned chest, and when she saw that stray lock of hair sticking up at the back of his head, she almost giggled. "Um, shall we?" Harry awkwardly asked under her scrutiny.

Hermione blushed, but hooked her arm through his. "We shall."

Harry led them both to a table near a window where a window framed an excellent nighttime view of the town. He pulled out a seat for Hermione and slid it under her when she took a seat. None of their anxiety seemed to wear off, but luckily, a waiter saved them from having to start the conversation by asking for their orders. "I'll have a gnocchi, extra spicy." Harry said, and Hermione replied with a "Make that two please." When the waiter walked away, Harry looked round at Hermione and gave her a nervous smile. "I've got to hand it to you. You make that dress look so seamless."

"You mentioned that already. And thanks; at least you remembered that I love roses. Especially pink ones." She said, adjusting herself in her seat and motioning to the flower. Harry seemed to relax at the comment, because he leaned back and started talking. "You know, I've been around town lately, and it seems as if I'm back home in London. I feel like I never left, only in another language. No wonder you love it here so much." He said. "I've always admired Italy, especially the culture. People here are so kind and generous, and they love food so much, it's a culture all by itself. It's something that you never really have back in England." She answered.

They continued in this line of conversation until the waiter served their meal and poured the wine that Harry had selected earlier. Once he had disappeared, they both raised their glasses. "To a wonderful vacation here, and to friendship." Harry smiled. Hermione added, "And to a successful career, both ways around." _And to a love that will never be._ Hermione sighed to herself in her mind before taking a sip of her wine. It was sweet and rich, and it rolled around nicely in her tongue.

Immediately Harry began to eat. The little pockets of potatoes swimming in their rich tomato sauce were aromatic and flavorful, but the meal was almost tasteless as Hermione ate. Just watching Harry eat like he did in a tux was enough to take her appetite away. No matter if his manners weren't perfect; she was content with just watching him. "Hey, you should eat you know. None of the Italian takeaways at home have food this good." Harry grinned through a mouthful of food. Hermione automatically picked up her fork. "I know. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." She answered.

"Why, don't you usually enjoy yourself on a date?" he asked, after swallowing his food. Hermione instantly regretted saying that. "No…I mean, yes! Yes I do. I don't know, I'm just really strung up with work, that's all." She answered. Memories drifted through her mind at that moment.

FLASHBACK 

_The music was soft and romantic. Alex had taken her out to one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. Everything was perfect, and Hermione felt that this was the night when he would pop the question, because for the past year he had been the reason she was doing so well at her job in the Villa. _

_"Hermione, you have not touched your food. Come on cara, you should savor the taste of our exquisite Italian cuisine." Alex crooned, brushing a hand across her cheek. Hermione giggled girlishly. "I'm full Alex. You have a bigger appetite than I do." _

_"Ah, peccato (a pity). Food is so much more delicious here than anywhere else." He said, slipping a tomato into his mouth. Hermione sighed as she watched the morsel slip through his handsomely carved lips. Handsome and sensitive, this man was the best boyfriend she had ever had. How could things get any better than this?_

"Hello, space station calling to Hermione!" Harry said, waving his fork in front of her face. Instantly, Hermione snapped back into the present. "I'm here Harry. Just a flashback." She replied, sighing pathetically. What was the use of bringing Alex back up when she knew he meant tnothing anymore to her. But somehow, she wished that she had never caught him kissing her head waiter because that one-year she spent with him helped her get over Harry just a little bit. When she looked at Harry's plate, she saw that his food was gone, as was most of hers.

"Flashback about what?" he asked. Hermione didn't really want to answer, but she allowed Harry to nick the French fries off her plate. "Look, are you going to eat the rest of my dinner for me? Because where I come from, openly eating bits of food from other people's plates is considered a social faux pas." She sighed in mock exasperation. "Well, where I went to school, filching uneaten food from plates is perfectly okay, as you might remember." Harry grinned, after snagging another fry off her plate. That boyish grin that never failed to set her blood pressure rising made her smile. "So Hermione… what's new, lovewise?" he asked, almost blithely.

She swallowed a little, but since that question was too direct to ignore, she decided to humor him with the least details she could spare. "Uhm…I've had dates here and there. Only one of them lasted for more than six months though. But the breakup was…mutual. We needed to go our separate ways." She offered. Harry knew she was bending the truth somewhere though, but he didn't want to press her for the truth. Everything Vittorio had told him was testament to how miserable she had been, so at present, it seemed like the situation was best left alone.

"Ookay. That being said, do you want to dance? I've taken a few lessons back home, just for the fun of it." He said, standing up and offering a hand to Hermione. The feeling of sadness that she was harboring in her heart had dissipated the moment he had asked her to dance. "A long way from the Yule Ball Harry; you never knew how to control your feet on the dance floor." She gently teased, taking Harry's hand and allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

To say that Harry could dance was a bit of an understatement. Those few lessons he had taken had not been in vain because Hermione felt totally in sync with him. The slightest pressure on her back, the barest brush of his arm against hers, he swept them across the room in perfect time to the music. Hermione once again was reminded that Harry never failed to melt her heart, no matter how small the gestures he made were. He was making her fall in love all over again, possibly even more in love.

_This is good. At least for now._ Hermione said to herself, as Harry pulled her close against him.

A/N: Ack. I know I've been a bit sloppy with this chapter, but I promise you, this is waaay substandard. Even I'm disgusted with the way it turned out. So please don't be mad at me, I promise a better Chapter seven. Hermione will not be such a drama queen anymore. It doesn't suit her. Oh yeah, and for those who are waiting for Ron to appear…he's coming soon. Ciao!


	7. The Golden Trio

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to put up; I swear I have so many things to do for school, what with our sports interfering and all. But I had fun writing this chapter because FINALLY, we get to see Ron! And I promise, this one will have more substance than the last chapter. Special thanks to those who have reviewed; you keep this writer going when nothing else will. Oh, and I owe a special thanks to snHP892 for keeping up with this story. You've been a wonderful supporter, and I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am. Rock on!

CHAPTER SEVEN 

Harry was deeply asleep in his bed, still dreaming about what just happened with Hermione. They had danced the night away, and Harry walked Hermione to the front door of the hotel before kissing her on the cheek. He had gone to bed with a fuzzy feeling in his brain, and only the barest bit of restraint kept him from dancing in the corridor leading to his room. He had passed Vittorio, who had looked at him in a favorably approving way just before turning the corner into his room.

THUD! THUMP! BANG! HARRRY!

The sudden banging on the door jerked Harry awake, who thought that the ceiling was falling down on him. Only when he heard his name did he realize that it was just someone at the door. Shoving his glasses on his face, he rolled out of bed; obviously disgruntled at the rudeness the person at the door was showing. Quite a rude contrast to what had happened the night before. The faintest bit of sunlight was already starting to filter through the drapes in his room, and a quick glance at his watch showed that it was only 4:45 in the morning.

When he got to the door, he gave a big yawn and a stretch. He needed to be quite alert when he was going to deal with this madcap idiot. Opening the door a crack, he was nearly thrown against the wall when a whirl of energy and limbs tossed the door open. "Harry, you mad dog! Why didn't you tell me you were here in Italy?" the person asked. Harry had to extricate himself from behind the door before taking a good look at this intruder. To any other person, this 'intruder' was possibly one of the most handsome men they had ever seen. Tall and redheaded, Ron seemed to have exchanged his characteristic gangliness for muscles and long and lean limbs. Gone was the lanky look Harry had been so familiar with all these years, and in its place was an auburn-haired demigod whose face could easily rival Eros'. But then again, the only thing that remained totally unchanged was the goofy grin that Harry recognized immediately.

"Could have sworn you looked less like a walking wet dream the last time I checked," Harry grinned, tousling his hair and giving a yawn. Ron glowed red in the ears. "Aw, c'mon Harry. You know me; I would have wanted to join you in the Quidditch team…" he said, obviously embarrassed. "Yeah, yeah. Some chick in a blazer gave you her card and the next thing you know you're the poster boy for the smallest pair of men's underwear ever conceptualized. What a deal." Harry teased. "Speak for yourself; last time I checked, you were London's most eligible bachelor with fan clubs in four continents. And that doesn't even include Europe." Ron smirked, lightly boxing his friend's arm.

"Spanking good to see you though. It's been what, five years?" Harry said, patting Ron's back. "Yeah. You know, you should consider visiting me in Rome once in a while. It gets tiring staying in your flat alone while all your other friends are out partying." He said, patting Harry's back as well then sinking onto the rumpled bed. "This is a pretty good place. Whenever I'm here for a shoot I make sure I stay here. Hermione taking care of you?" he asked. "We've spent time together. Actually I had dinner with her last night. When did you get in anyway? And why didn't _you_ tell me that you were coming to town?" Harry asked.

Ron toed off his shoes and reclined back onto the pillows. "And have you accusing me of not visiting you in London? No way! Besides, I had to take the earliest flight out of Rome because it's murder getting in and out of an airport with all the reporters flocking around. As you very well know." He grinned from his relaxed position. "Why are you here anyway? Hermione didn't mention much in her last owl. She just said that you needed to relax from work and stuff. But knowing you, you hardly take a vacation, so something must be up. You mind telling me what?" Ron asked. The thought that Hermione and Ron kept in touch more often than they wrote him sent a faint twinge of jealousy through Harry, but he tried to reason with himself, saying that he hadn't been the most responsive when it came to writing owls.

"The team decided to send me here to make sure I don't blow over from too much stress. At first I thought they had gone insane because I was enjoying work too much. Then I came over to Italy, and I think they're right; I have been working too hard. I don't think I'm in a hurry to go home, come to think of it." Harry replied. "Yeah, they were right. Who would have thought that you would get so much out of looking for a tiny golden ball with wings all day? Not that it's a bad thing; I'm just saying that you should get out more. Have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron queried. "There hasn't been anyone since Janina." Harry quietly answered. "Bully for her. She's an idiot for having gone out with that teammate of yours. He doesn't measure even half of what you are, so don't take it seriously." Ron airily said. "How about you then? Knowing you, you're probably chasing everything in skirts." Harry ribbed. Ron turned pink. "Uhrm…I've gone out with some girls here and there. I can't seem to find the right one though." He said. _Funny though; neither can I._ Harry thought to himself.

As usual, Hermione was waiting for Harry in the breakfast room. Last night had been so lovely, she couldn't sleep that night. Everything had been perfect, from her dress to the goodnight kiss Harry gave her. She could have floated away into the clouds; it was that wonderful.

"Hermione!" a jaunty voice called from the entrance to the breakfast room.

When she turned around, she was faced with two of the most handsome men she had ever seen, but one of them far more handsome than the other. One of them was redheaded, and he was turning heads when he passed by. The brunette beside him was also turning heads, but it was Hermione's heart that was tripping over him.

"Ron!" she called, standing up and waving. The waiters and the waitresses whispered among themselves that Harry Potter (the Boy who Lived and the Seeker for the National Quidditch team of London) and Ron Weasley (the stud muffin male model) were both staying in the hotel and they were friends with their general manager. "Hi Hermione; or should I call you Signora Granger?" Ron teased. Hermione mock-frowned at him. "You know I hate being called that. What happened to the days when I was just Hermione?" she asked in a tone that suggested that they had had this argument several times. "Ah well; you know me. I can't help but tease you about your job when all Harry and I are good for is looking good." Ron hit back.

Harry was listening to their banter, feeling the jealousy in him increase. How could he have missed so many good times? Granted, he was devastated when Janina cheated on him, leaving him empty and cold inside. Why would he purposely want to shut these two out of his life? But before he could depress himself further, Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts. "Harry, good morning. You must have had a right nasty shock when Ron barged into your room this morning eh?" she grinned. Harry abandoned his thoughts for the moment; he did not need a distraction this early in the morning.

"Ripped through it is more like it. He kept me up until Vittorio came in to check on the room, and even then Ron was still in the showers whistling like he had just woken up." Harry said. "Right. But what can I do about it? I'm already used to being up early in the morning." Ron shrugged. Hermione chuckled at Harry's expression of exasperation. "Come on you two. Sit down already and let's order breakfast."

A waiter came up to them and took their orders (a fruit-filled croissant for Hermione, bacon and eggs with a side of hash browns for Harry, and three sunny-side up eggs with a side order of French toast for Ron), and he left them marveling at the size of the boys' orders. Hermione was already used to the volume of food they both consumed, so she wasn't so apt to tease about the food they ate. "Thanks for a wonderful evening last night Hermione; I enjoyed it a lot." Harry said, holding Hermione's hand in thanks. Hermione bobbed her head in acknowledgment. "You're very welcome Harry. You never mentioned that you could dance well, only that you took lessons." She said. Ron looked incredulous. "You? Dance? Harry, what else have I missed?" he inquired. Harry laughed. "Get that look off your face Ron; I haven't gone gay. I just took them for the hell of it. To tell you the truth, they kind of help you keep your balance while you're on a broom. I recommend it." "He's a natural you know. Nobody would have guessed he's not a beginner." Hermione gushed, her face glowing with something more than just excitement. Ron noticed the glow, but Harry did not. Instead he let go of her hand and coolly asked, "Have you guys been keeping in touch often?"

Ron and Hermione looked guiltily at each other. "We tried to keep in touch with you Harry; but you were impossible to talk to. Janina tore your heart into two and naturally you've broken down. But since you're feeling much better…"Hermione began. "What she means Harry is that although we tried to keep in touch with you, you hardly answered our owls. We thought you'd given up on the world. Now you're happier and more contented, we'd be glad to write you back," Ron hastily added on. The words were comforting, but the jealousy that had been growing in his chest grew a little bit more. It was irrational, but he could not explain why. "Cool it you two; it's alright. I just wanted to know how you both were doing," Harry said, focusing his attention on a vase of flowers in between the three of them. Ron and Hermione shifted uneasily in their seats as they desperately tried to look for neutral grounds for conversation. Fortunately, the timely appearance of Vittorio by their table did just that. "And how are we this morning, Signore Granger? And Harry, I trust you slept well before Signor Weasley arrived?" he asked in his smooth-as-chocolate voice. Harry chuckled, "Of course Vittorio. I'm quite accustomed to Signor Weasley's ways." Hermione stepped in, saying, "We're doing fine Vittorio. Ron, this is Vittorio. He's in charge of yours and Harry's suite while you're here. If you need anything, you can go talk to him." Ron looked up at him, and then held out his hand for him to shake. "Nice to meet you. Vittorio." Ron said. The valet looked curiously at him, but bowed his way out, saying that he had chores to finish before lunchtime.

"Oh damn, that's right. I have a business meeting in half an hour. I really must leave now…Ron, have you anything planned for today?" Hermione asked. Ron put on an expression of thought. "I was thinking that I should show Harry around the city, if you haven't done that. Or we can just hang out, do guy stuff." He said. "Harry, will you be okay?" Hermione inquired. Harry leaned back in his chair. "If you mean will I be alright with Ron, sure. But if you mean will I stay safe with him around, I can't guarantee you that. You know the shenanigans we get into." Harry teasingly grinned. "Shenanigans? Me?" Ron innocently asked, but unfortunately for them both, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately for you, I no longer have to make sure you keep your noses clean. Anyway, have fun you two. I'll see you around." She waved, walking out of the breakfast room.

When she was safely out, Ron smiled at Harry. "What shall we do today?" he asked in a voice that only imitated innocence. "Well…there are not a lot of things we can pull. The village is really small; there's nothing I haven't seen already so your plans of showing me around might have to differ in terms of location. And not to add insult to injury, but I'm already starting to get bored. I'd try anything with a little more pace to it, y'know?" Harry answered. "I can show you the city then. I've been there loads of times for shoots and for promotional parties. It's more your speed." Ron smiled.

The two of them zipped down to the city on scooters they rented for the day. It was totally metropolitan, a completely different setting than the village. There were real skyscrapers with concrete sidewalks and everything. The people there were mostly young and chic, sporting shopping bags and backpacks instead of chickens and baskets of vegetables. Harry felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. This was the setting he was more accustomed to, and he suddenly felt like he was back home in England. "This is more like it." Ron grinned, parking his scooter and taking off his helmet. Harry could only nod and gaze around. "What's wrong? You okay?" Ron asked, noticing the expression on Harry's face. "It's nothing…I'm actually more interested in knowing how you got so Muggle-oriented." He replied. Ron shrugged. "I had to learn, because the Muggle world started to hire me for their products as well. But I still don't understand the concept of the tellerphone." He answered. Harry laughed. "_Telephone_ Ron. Honestly, whatever would we do with you?"

They set off for the nearest strip mall. Ron was apparently very comfortable with his being a celebrity because all the girls stopped him for his and Harry's autograph and picture. It didn't seem to bother him at all, but it made Harry a little irritated. He should be on his vacation, for crying out loud! At least Ron was gracious enough to leave his adoring fans when he noticed Harry was looking a little tired of all the attention. "Sorry about that mate; I forgot you were on vacation," Ron grinned sheepishly. "It's okay. I think I'm past that stage where I think that I'm absolutely obliged to give everyone an autograph. No offense meant though," Harry quickly said. Ron just gave a shrug. "Hey, let's go to one of my favorite espresso bars here. They serve the best coffee and it's totally private. It's the one place I can go have a cup of joe and not be harassed by reporters and such." He suggested.

They walked around a little more where they came to a stop in front of a classy-looking establishment. The design was modern and it had those blinking lighted doors in the front. "Welcome to Fabiola's, the best coffeehouse you will ever go to," Ron smiled. A waiter let them in and led them to a table near the back. Apparently, this is where the elite of society went to see and be seen. The very air reeked of extravagance. "It's a little overwhelming. When you're used to seeing chickens and cows on the road, you're suddenly missing them when you sit in a place like this. It's incredible though; you actually have to get dressed up for coffee." Harry remarked. "Yeah? I was totally spastic when I first came here. I ordered the simplest thing I could recognize on the menu, and even that was a total disaster. You don't want to know." Ron said, flicking the paper napkin that was artfully arranged on its holder.

A pretty waitress took their order. Ron took his time flirting with her, being as charming as he could possibly be. Harry just watched him in action, trying to remember a time when he had been as flirtatious. Sadly, he couldn't recall anything. Ron ordered a fancy-sounding espresso mix, and when the waitress turned to him for his order, Harry just held up both his hands and ordered the same thing Ron did.

While waiting for their drinks, Harry looked around the place some more. The tiles were speckled and expensive. "Now that I have your undivided attention, may I ask what the hell is going on between you and Hermione?" Ron asked. The question jolted Harry quite a bit. "Huh? Hermione? Nothing's happening with us Ron, why would you think that?" he asked. "Well, during breakfast you were quite miffed over the idea of me and Hermione keeping in touch more than we kept in touch with you. You also looked quite possessive, the way you held her hand. Is there anything you want to explain?" Ron hinted in a semi-mocking voice. Harry frowned. "Nothing's going on between us Ron, you know that. We're just friends."

Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't get mad at me mate, it was just an observation. But anyway, I guess I should explain right off that the way she bugs me for what happens to you and stuff is quite an indicator. And like I said at breakfast, you look at her differently now. From what I'm thinking, you two have quite a thing going on. What do you think?" he asked.

"You know, I haven't really thought about it." Harry lied. _But if you say she annoys you about me, I think I really should be thinking about it. Especially since I've got a whole new set of feelings for Hermione now._

A/N: Aiee! Harry's thinking about it! Now that the lot of you has seen Ron, what do you think? Have I done the cliché thing right? The storyline is slowly picking up now…expect a twist a couple of chapters from now. Tell me what your ideas are!


	8. Hit You In The Face Kind of Love

A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews y'all have written. It's overwhelmingly flattering, really. For all those Ron fans out there, please don't kill me because I made a stunningly common cliché out of him. He's part of the twist that happens in the end. And for those of you who have been waiting for _something_ to happen…you might like this chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT 

The whole evening, Harry had been sitting on the chaise near the window thinking. Ever since Ron made that astute observation about him and Hermione, his mind had not left that topic the whole day. In fact, he had been thinking about it for a majority of the time he and Ron were knocking around the city. Now that he had the peace and quiet of the suite (save for Ron's deep snoring from the other side of the room), he could think clearly and better. The noisy roads and the hollering of people was a perfect deterrent to what he wanted mostly to do that day.

While he was curled on the chaise, he wondered what Ron meant by him and Hermione being an item. Sure, they had spent a lot of time together during Harry's stay and they kept in touch quite often, but did that merit to being an item with someone? In a way though, Ron was right. The way he felt when he whirled around the dance floor with Hermione in his arms was something he only felt when he was with Janina, and even then it wasn't so intense. But why was it only now that he was feeling more than just friendship with Hermione?

It's not like he wasn't attracted to her. In more ways than one, he was. He enjoyed her obsession with grades because it was something that he and Ron could feel secure about. He appreciated her fierce determination to succeed in this life, and it was because of her he felt that he had someone worthwhile to talk to. He liked it that she made sure everyone stayed in touch with each other, especially when he went through his rough spot with Janina. In short, it was everything that made Hermione who she was that he liked and was attracted to. She didn't look that bad either; she seemed to have blossomed into a real woman, one with a brain. He was slowly developing some kind of feeling for her, but it was something he couldn't put a name or face to.

Harry spent the rest of the night thinking about it, until he fell asleep on the chaise, lightly snoring.

"Harry! Signor Potter, wake up!"

Harry felt himself being shaken awake by Vittorio. The morning light glared into his eyes, and he felt a crick in his neck from sleeping in a near-sitting position. "I'm up Vittorio…what's wrong?" he asked, yawning. "Nothing really sir. It's just that Signor Weasley has left a message before he left, and it is high time you woke up anyway. He wants you to meet him at the La Venta at ten thirty. Right now it is about nine forty-five." Vittorio said. Harry groaned and ran his hands through his hair. "Does Hermione know about this?" he asked. "I would not know sir, I'm sorry." Vittorio said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Well thanks Vittorio. Ron must have had a hard time waking me up or something; otherwise I would have gotten the message." Harry said, yawning yet again. "Shall I run your bath?" Vittorio asked. Harry grinned at him and at the same time blushed. "You know Vittorio, it isn't quite the trend for a man to offer to run the bath of another man. Even if you technically ARE my valet."

Harry managed to take a quick shower and snatch something off the breakfast table before running out into the street to rent a scooter and ask for directions. His Italian was really picking up now; none of the local people gave him a funny look when he spoke to them. He drove down to a place that was not quite out of town, but not too close either. There were botanical gardens strewn every few blocks in that section of town. Obviously the La Venta had something to do with plants and herbs.

He was right. The La Venta was a sprawling piece of land that had every kind of flower he knew growing in it. Trees and bushes of every sort also occupied it. Somewhere among the greenery though, he was able to pick up the sound of some people speaking phrases of English. He followed the sound until he came to a spot that was full of lights and cameras. It was a photo shoot, to be more exact. Harry took in all the people running past him: harried looking women carrying makeup bags and brushes, impatient photographers trying to get the right angle and lighting for a particular frame, agents on their cell phones, and of course, the models running around from one location to another. Harry figured that Ron was in here somewhere, but somehow it didn't take that long for him to find him.

"Oi! Harry! You're here!" Ron hollered. Harry looked behind him to see Ron coming toward him clad in some designer outfit. Harry looked him up and down and shot him a teasing grin. "Well Ron, you certainly know how to class up a botanical garden. What did you bring me here for?" Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved in work while I take a vacation here in Italy, but this ad campaign was one I couldn't possibly refuse! Look, Hermione is going to join us afterwards. I was thinking that we have lunch in a place I know. It's near here, and I'll bring some of my friends with me. I'm sure you'll like them." Ron said. Harry rolled his eyes. "Knowing you, you'd probably count on someone else to choose the place. And what do you mean friends?" he asked.

"Don't worry about the food; I've got it all covered. Over here Hermione!" Ron called, over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned around and amidst all the motion, he saw Hermione right away. She was easily the shortest person among all the people, but there was something about her that made her stand out. She was dressed simply in a sleeveless purple blouse and knee-length pedal pushers. "Hey Ron. Harry." She called back, waving. Harry stood transfixed at her walking towards them, and couldn't quite bring himself to wave back. "What's the emergency?" she smiled. "Nothing, just a little lunch I wanted you to join us in. I'll introduce you to some of my friends." Ron replied.

"Oh, that's it? And Harry's coming too right?" she asked. "Yeah, I am. Hi Hermione." Harry smiled. He felt like a complete idiot right now; why was seeing Hermione suddenly such an issue to him?

"Ron? On the set now, they're looking for you. One last frame, I swear." A man in a rumpled polo shirt and khakis said, running by them. "Damn, I have one more to shoot. D'you think you just hang on a few more minutes? I'll be as quick as I can." Ron said, before taking off in the other direction. Hermione and Harry were left standing there. "Uh, great morning isn't' it?" Harry awkwardly asked. Hermione looked back at him kind of funny. "Yeah…it is. Sleep well?" she asked.

_Not really. I had you on my mind most of the night._ Harry thought. "Yeah, I did. Um, d'you want to watch Ron make an idiot out of himself in front of the camera?" he asked. Hermione looked at him, puzzled, but she nodded and walked over to where Ron was. They found him in front of an apple tree, posing with a can of soda. The photographer kept shouting directions at him and he followed them, moving where the photographer told him. It was a bit amusing really, and Harry and Hermione had a real job trying to hold in the giggles. They had never seen Ron at work, so this was quite a treat to see.

Ten minutes after, Ron disappeared into a small trailer off the back and emerged wearing regular clothes. He was wearing linen pants, a polo shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He was also carrying a bottle of wine. Harry had never seen Ron dressed so impeccably; his regular getup was normally a pair of worn jeans and a shirt he never bothered to iron. "Lunch or a picnic, I'd say you're overdressed, "Harry remarked. Hermione let out a burst of laughter. "He's actually right you know. Ronald, what's up with you?" she asked. Ron shot them a frown. "I'm sorry, but since when did the two of you care how I dressed?"

"Sorry Ron, but we know how you really are about Muggle clothes. It's just a treat to see you look normal dressed as a Muggle. And you don't look too bad." Hermione answered. Ron blushed, but recovered quickly. "Look, we'd better get going. The guys are already waiting for us. Oh, and by the way, they're all Muggle, so please don't pull anything."

They all piled into Ron's rented car, making sure to situate the wine in a safe spot. "Tell us again Ron; where are we going for lunch?" Harry asked. "It's in a little place called La Piazza. I did an endorsement for them once, so we've got a free lunch going." He answered from the front seat. Hermione tapped his head. "Typical Ron. The only place you can possibly consider for lunch or dinner are those where you can get free food," she teased. Harry laughed, but quieted down when Ron shot him a glare from the rearview mirror. "Right. And I do remember an incident at a certain restaurant where a certain friend of mine hogged most of the food at the buffet table. People were starting to wonder where the hole in the table was," Harry shot back. This time, Ron's ears burned bright red, and Harry couldn't keep the laughter in. Hermione joined in, and for a split second, Harry started to notice the way a dimple appeared near Hermione's mouth, the way her lips curved up when she laughed, and how neat and straight her teeth were. Her eyes were sparkling with tears of laughter and her face was flushed from laughing.

He was entranced.

Luckily for him, Hermione might have noticed him staring were it not for Ron's sudden announcement of, "We're here!" The spell was broken, and Harry was left reeling.

Ron helped Hermione out of the car and asked Harry to carry the wine. Once they were all out, Harry took a good look at the place. The La Piazza was a lovely little country restaurant, obviously run by the family who owned it. The walls of the place had ivy crawling all around it, and it had little white blossoms that grew in spots on the ivy. Hermione had obviously been here before because a plump old lady with puffy white hair came out with a floury apron, clapping her hands together when she saw Hermione and Ron. "Ciao, ciao! Ronaldo and Hermione, how wonderful it is to see you two again! Mama Isabella has missed you so much!" the lady said, kissing them on both cheeks. Harry stood behind them, gripping the bottle of wine. He felt quite out of place, but not before Isabella pushed her way between Ron and Hermione and gave Harry a big hug. "Ciao, and who are you?" she asked. Harry said, "I'm Harry ma'am. Um, it's nice to meet you." From behind Isabella, Ron gestured to Harry to give the bottle of wine to her. "Um, this is for you ma'am…"Harry said, extending the bottle to her. She took it, and then kissed Harry on both cheeks. "Thank you very much Harry, but you must call me Mama Isabella. And anytime you want to come here, you will always get a free meal okay?" she said, hugging him. Harry had to smile, and he took the old lady's arm through his. "Alright Mama; shall we?"

Isabella led them to a table already full of people. What Harry noticed though, was that they were all young and very good-looking. The men were handsome and tall; the women slender and gorgeous. Ron discreetly said, "They're all model friends of mine. We all happened to be in Italy for the same ad campaign," Harry nodded, and shot a glance over at Hermione. She was standing right behind him, looking quite uneasy.

"Hey, Ron's here." An emaciated-looking blond drawled. Ron's head cocked up at the sound of his name. "Roxanne! How are you, luv?" Ron greeted, giving her a kiss on both cheeks. "Same old, same old. It's absolutely lovely to see you again. Who would have thought we'd all be in the same part of Europe during our break?" she said, lacing her arms around his neck. Ron lightly clasped her waist and addressed everyone at the table. "Everyone, this is Harry." Ron said, gesturing to Harry.

The whole table looked at him, and Harry found himself looking at everyone at the table. "Harry, this is everyone. You've all met Hermione right?" Ron said. The girls stared at Harry, obviously finding him more than just fair-looking. "Come on Harry, have a seat next to me!" a redhead smiled, clearing her jacket off a chair next to her. Harry's eyes ticked over to Hermione, not quite wanting to leave her alone. "Have a seat next to me 'Mione," Ron said, holding out a chair for her. Harry slid over to the redhead (whose name was Georgia) and sat down. She was gorgeous, sexy, and as Harry found out during the meal, annoyingly chatty.

"Oh, and when my boyfriend and I were in Milan, I saw the most darling skirt in a little boutique! I couldn't leave until I bought it, so I made my boyfriend buy it for me," she recounted, addressing only Harry. He mentally rolled his eyes; all she had been blabbing about were clothes, boys, her job, and more useless things. He was getting quite pissed actually. His seatmates were no better; he found that most of them were quite self-absorbed, and they hardly ate anything.

While Georgia turned around and talked to another girl, Harry absentmindedly looked for Hermione. She was seated next to Ron, trying to keep up with the conversations that were swirling around her. He could tell that she was bored with all the conversations going around her. After all, she was smarter than all of them put together. Harry's mind stuck on her for a few more minutes, just drinking in the sight of her when a fresh new thought popped into his brain: He was in love with her.

Love. It wasn't the fool admiration that most men felt for such efficient women, nor was it the temporary lust that they felt for the gorgeous ones. That was the kind of feeling you'd have for one of these model-type girls, but Harry saw that Hermione was so much more beautiful than them. And he felt it was the hit-you-in-the-face kind of love, but he knew that it had been there all along. It just needed a nudge in the right direction. He had probably fallen in love with her when she had picked him up at the airport, and he saw her standing in front of him. She was his guiding light and the only one who could let him know that he was being the best man he could ever be.

The realization left him a little winded.

"Ron, pipe down, I've got to tell you something!" Harry exasperatedly said. Ron was dancing around the room in an obvious high. "Just shoot Harry, you know I'm listening," he answered. Harry sighed. "Ron, I think I've realized something. Well, not exactly realized, since I've known it all along, but…"

"You're in love with Hermione, aren't you?" Ron asked. Harry didn't answer for a second, obviously surprised. "Well, yes I am Ron. How did you figure that out?"

Ron snorted. "You think I'm blind, don't you? Well, actually I had already guessed that you had something for her a long time ago. But just this afternoon, there was a moment where you just spaced off and had this really odd look in your eyes. You were focusing on Hermione, and that's when I realized you were in love with her," he explained.

Harry mulled it over, but it still didn't make any sense. "Come on Ron; there's got to be another explanation. How is it that you figured it out at the same time I did?" he asked. Ron sat down next to him. "We're best mates. Of course I noticed. Besides, how else could you possibly justify it when you are sitting at a table crowded with the crème de la crème of the model world?"

He was right. There was no better explanation than that. "Y'know, you could have at least let me in on this a little earlier than now. I had a hard time sleeping last night because I couldn't quite figure out things myself." Harry said, reclining on his back on the bed.

"Chalk it up to logic, you'll find that a little goes a long way," Ron winked.

Harry tossed a pillow at him in reply.

Hermione was standing in her room, looking quite dejected. She had a funny feeling that she had lost Harry for good this time. He might have fallen for one of Ron's colleagues, particularly since he had been sandwiched between two of them at lunchtime. He wasn't all that responsive to her after that either, almost like he had something important on his mind.

_I'll tell him tomorrow how I feel. It's only fair, so at least we can both go on with our lives forever, _she sadly thought to herself.

Looking out the window, she could see the light still on in Harry and Ron's suite. Her heart sank even lower, heavy with the knowledge that Harry was and never would be attracted to her type. He had always liked girls who were contented with a few fancy gifts and a lot of attention. It had destroyed him as a man eventually.

Oh Harry. Why don't you seem to want to accept what's best for you? I love you so much, and I want to be the best woman for you.

A/N: I'm soooo sorry this took forever to put up. It's the final stretch of the school year, and the teachers are loading us up on schoolwork, plus two major requirements that will be completed in three weeks. I promise I'll have more time to update then.


	9. Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

A/N: Much appreciate the reviews. Special greetings to snHP892 again. Thanks so much for keeping up with the story, and I am so happy you're enjoying it. What are your thoughts on Harry and Hermione's relationship, especially now that Ron knows about the whole thing? Find out in this chapter!

CHAPTER NINE 

_Ron and Harry's suite, after dinner._

Ron had just come out of the bath wrapped in his bathrobe when he heard the doorbell ring. "I'm coming!" he hollered. When he looked through the peephole, he saw that it was Hermione, looking quite dejected. "Hello luv, what's wrong?" he asked, once he opened the door.

"Ron, hey. Is Harry here?" she asked. Ron shook his head. "Nope. He ran out shortly after dinner because he wanted to go out and buy something. Couldn't quite figure it out though; he seemed like he was in such a hurry," Hermione just nodded and collapsed on the couch. In the short span that the two had been living there, it was apparent that they both put their mark on the place. Harry's side of the place was as neat as a pin, with every personal item he owned in a strategic place on the vanity. Ron's side however, was almost as messy as a magpie's nest; clothes were strewn everywhere, and his toothbrush was soaking in a glass, head down. "Sorry I wasn't able to clean up. I had no idea you were coming," Ron sheepishly said.

"You're on vacation. You're supposed to be messy," Hermione answered. Ron studied her body language. Her shoulders were drooping considerately, her eyes had dark shadows under them, and the corners of her mouth were constantly quivering. It was almost as if she was going to burst out crying anytime soon. "Hermione, what's wrong with you? You look so sad,"

She just looked up at him with her big brown eyes. She didn't say anything for a bit, but she looked down at her hands and said, "Ron, it's so difficult to be in love with your best friend. Honestly, I didn't think it would happen, but it did." Ron looked at her, a little puzzled. "You're not in love with me, are you?" he asked. Hermione smiled a little. "You're such a sweetheart and a wonderful friend, but no. It's Harry I'm in love with. I just don't understand why he can't see what's right in front of him," she answered.

Ron went to the sideboard and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Firewhisky. "I think you need a drink 'Mione. Tell me everything," he said.

She accepted the glass, but she didn't drink it right away. She swirled the glass around first. "Ron, I've probably loved Harry since our first year at Hogwarts, right after we tackled the troll. But I was still so young and I didn't understand the way I felt about him." She started. Ron sat next to her and put a hand on her knee. "Keep going; I'm listening,"

She took a sip. "Then came second year, when I spent part of the school year Petrified in the Hospital Wing. I was so scared for him, you and Ginny, but when you both came out fine, I felt a lot better. Even if I couldn't move, I was still capable of thought and I spent every minute worrying about you two. Third year came, with the Dementors. God, if I could count all those times I thought I would have to stand between Harry and a Dementor, it would probably make you dizzy."

Ron nodded in comprehension. "Apparently you were a lot more worried than you let on 'Mione. You were always the levelheaded one among us all," he said. She continued, as if Ron hadn't spoken. "After the Dementors left, I was now more aware of how much danger Harry was really in. The Triwizard Tournament, facing Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore dying…all of those events made me sick with worry. I wanted to help him so much, but I couldn't. When we graduated from Hogwarts, I thought that maybe I could forget about him if I went to school in a Muggle university so I wouldn't be reminded of how much I cared for him. It was eating me up inside Ron, you have no idea."

"Then I started interning at the Villa. Vittorio helped me get a good recommendation from the board of trustees so I could get a job working there even if I studied in a Muggle university. By that time, I was kind of over Harry, thinking that I had moved on. We only communicated through owls, and we never saw each other. But when he signed on with the National Quidditch Team of England, I found that he had gotten more and more handsome over time. Deep inside though, he was still the sweetest guy and he still was as gentlemanly as he was since I last saw him. All his girlfriends were beautiful of course, but the last one ripped him apart. I couldn't do anything about that, and it hurt so much."

Ron held a hand up. "Hermione, I understand your history with Harry is full of pain and all, but I don't understand why you're so unhappy," Hermione flicked her glass upward and drained it. She extended it for more Firewhisky. "I wasn't so passive though. Of course I went dating, saw a couple of guys here and there. But none of them could ever take the place of Harry. None of them were as good as he ever was. There was this one guy though, named Alex. When I was with him, he'd treat me out to the most expensive restaurants in the city, take me out on nice dates, and give me loads of pricey jewelry. For a while, I thought I loved him. He was so nice and handsome and perfect."

"One night though, I was working late and I went to the kitchens for something to eat. When I flicked the light on, Alex was on the kitchen counter doing my headwaiter, Michaelo. For a moment I almost screamed at him, but my brain kept saying that I had known it all along. I just turned on my heel and left. Vittorio found me on the other side of town in my car with a killer hangover. Michaelo quit the next day, and I haven't been the same since. Now that Harry is here, I thought that maybe things would be better. But after lunch yesterday, Harry wasn't talking to me. I figured he had fallen for your redheaded friend. It wasn't surprising though, especially since he's had a lifelong attraction to gorgeous women. So now I just came to tell him everything and exit his life forever. It's not fair to me, and it's definitely not fair to him either. That's all Ron,"

Ron was stunned. Hermione had finished two more glasses while she was talking to him and was now pouring herself another while he barely finished his first. That was the whole story; he had to tell Harry. It was a little quiet between them now.

"Ron, what do you think?"

He turned his head around. "Hermione, you shouldn't back down so easily. Georgia is never serious with her boyfriends, and you and I know that Harry deserve better than that. You're worth a million of her," he answered. Ron wanted to tell Hermione how much in love Harry was with her, but he felt that it was better if Harry was the one who told her. "Do you really think so?" she slurred, the alcohol finally taking effect. Ron didn't get a chance to answer because she raised herself on her knees and kissed him.

The initial shock jolted him a little, but he grabbed her arms and tried to push her away. But the more he tried to push, the harder she came onto him. Her tongue started tracing the line of his lips. The taste of alcohol on her breath was intoxicating and it was murder on his self-control trying to evade her mouth. Her hands weren't passive either; they burrowed under his bathrobe seeking out his tightly muscled flesh.

Harry was racing through the corridor, with a Cartier bag in tow. He had run out of the Villa into town to buy a ring for Hermione. It had taken him some time because he had to choose the best ring, one that would fit everything he loved about her onto one small ringlet of gold with a beautifully cut diamond on top. He also had to charm the female shopkeeper into keeping the store open for just a little while more while he made his selection. All his feeling suddenly became clear to him, and he had decided to ask Hermione to be his girlfriend that very night. Everything about that day was better than usual; the pancakes he had for breakfast were creamier than normal, his toothpaste mintier, his smile brighter, and the sun shinier.

Hermione wasn't in her office; Vittorio said she was in his suite.

As he approached the door of his suite, he was deciding on how to ask her. He was running on pure adrenalin right now, especially with the thought of Hermione already waiting for him inside his suite. He shoved the door open.

Ron heard the door crash against the wall, and he knew he absolutely had to stop. It was a bit of a struggle, but Hermione came off him in an obvious lack of breath.

For ten whole seconds, a stunningly lifelike tableaux was made; Harry standing at the entrance of the door staring at his two best friends making out, Ron lying on the chaise with his robe partway open and over his shoulder, and Hermione leaning against him, panting for breath. Then the tableaux blazed to life.

"What the hell are you doing, you two-faced bastard?" Harry roared, charging towards Ron.

"I didn't do anything! She just came on to me!" Ron answered, leaping off while trying to fix the sagging robe. Hermione was still a little tipsy, but the roar Harry made cut through her cloudy pink haze. Instantly, she was aware of what just happened between her and Ron. She focused again on the two guys, and Harry obviously was ticked off by what he had seen. He was now grabbing Ron by the collar and shaking him until his head snapped back and forth. "It didn't look like you trying to stop her!" Harry shouted. Ron was now struggling for breath and turning blue. "Harry, you sodding arsehole, listen to me! She's drunk!" he yelled in broken intervals as his head was rocking violently back and forth.

The scene was too much for Hermione to handle. She ran out of the room sobbing.

"So did she suddenly consume so much Firewhisky that she couldn't distinguish between you and me or did you suddenly decide that you wanted what you knew you couldn't have?" Harry demanded. Frankly, Ron was getting a little frantic now; he had never known the full extent of Harry's temper, but he never figured him to be so violent. "Harry, let go of my collar and let me explain!" he begged. There was only a slight loosening of Harry's fingers before he drew his arm back and slammed his fist into the front of Ron's face. There was a sickening CRACK and Ron slithered to the floor clutching his bleeding face. "I cannot believe you would do this to me Ron. Ever," Harry hissed before grabbing the Cartier shopping bag and tucking it in his jacket pocket. Ron didn't reply, so Harry stormed out of the suite and out of the Villa.

As if in one of those clichéd dramas, the rain started to fall on Harry. But he didn't care; they were welcome to soothe the pain in his raw and bleeding heart. After several months of trying to get over Janina, he thought he could love again. With Hermione, there was just so much more to life, because she was the only one who could make him feel that way. Janina had left him devastated; Hermione left him traumatized forever. As he walked on further, his brain tried to rationalize with him; why wouldn't Hermione be attracted to Ron? He was only the most sought-after male model in the world. They also kept more in touch with each other than with Harry himself, so obviously they were closer.

The blended mix of feelings inside him was ripping him up until his raw. The only two people in this world who he could trust had betrayed him in the lowest, most vile way possible. He had lost it all.

And as in all those clichéd dramas, a car pulled up slowly beside him. Harry thought it was another pedestrian, but someone called to him from inside:

"Signor Potter! Over here!"

Vittorio was driving in his car right beside Harry. He only glanced, but kept on walking. "Harry, please get inside the car. I won't take you back to the Villa," Vittorio pleaded. Harry stopped walking, but only long enough to face Vittorio. "I appreciate what you're offering, but I can't be with anyone right now. It's just too difficult," he answered.

"Harry, no. I heard everything that happened inside the suite. If you just let me, I will be able to explain," Vittorio pleaded. "What's there to explain Vittorio? You heard what happened, didn't you?" Harry snapped. Vittorio looked at him in sad eyes. "Ah, Signor. There is more, so much more."

A flash of lightning cut across the sky. Harry looked around him, and then relented. He opened the door to Vittorio's car and fitted his frame into the seat.

Vittorio drove them to a little house on the outskirts of town. It was a typical Italian home with a small garden out front and a wide porch for entertaining guests. "My home is not much, but it is the only place I ever need," he said. Harry only nodded, but got out of the car. Vittorio opened the front door and lighted his home with a wave of a wand. Harry noticed that he favored wall sconces over regular chandeliers or oil lamps. "Sit down over there and I'll make you some hot chocolate," Vittorio directed. "Vittorio, no thanks. We're not at the hotel anymore. Out of there, you're not my valet" Harry tiredly said, standing up to help when Vittorio barked, "Sit! Signor, I may not be your valet anymore, but you are stressed out as it is. Listen to me," he said. He stepped out of the kitchen then waved his wand at the stove. A cupboard flew open and a kettle, 2 cups, and 2 teaspoons flew out. The kettle settled on the stove where it began warming up some hot chocolate.

"I understand how you and Signora Granger feel because I have been on both sides of the story before," he started. Harry was about to ask when Vittorio held up a hand. "Let me finish. While Alex was dating Signora, I was dating Michaelo. He was probably the One, but after that night, I knew I was terribly wrong. It did not strike me as surprising when I found out that Alex had been with Michaelo too because there were signs," he sadly said. Harry just sat there, gaping. Vittorio, dating another guy?

"Signs…what signs?" Harry asked. "Sometimes Alex would tip Michaelo much more than what was acceptable. Or on those occasions when Signora would be in the office late because Alex could not make it to their date, Michaelo would mysteriously disappear as well. There were signs Harry, they were everywhere. But what I need to tell you is this: Michaelo explained to me long after that he was never fully in love with me, but he was madly and passionately in love with Alex. We were going out for three years, but he knew that Alex was the one right after he met him. What I'm trying to say is, that you will know it when you find the one person you are willing to give up the world for. Michaelo found it in Alex; and I know you have found it in Signora Granger," he said.

During the lull, Vittorio waved his wand and the two mugs floated over to them. Harry accepted his gratefully and took a sip. Flavors and scents of rich chocolate with a little vanilla permeated his nostrils and mind, but the harsh juxtaposition of the chocolate and his thoughts stung to the quick. "Vittorio, I came on this vacation to relax and to have fun. But now, I don't know if I can stay here anymore. I have to go home. Coming here was a big mistake," he finally said.

Vittorio looked at Harry with sad eyes. "How I wish I could chide you for running away from Signora Granger, but the hurt will only magnify it more. Signor, you will soon realize your mistake, and it is not in coming here," he sadly said.

Harry answered as if he did not hear. "I'll book a flight home tomorrow morning. Vittorio, it's been great having you as my valet. Thanks for everything," he said, putting his mug down and walking towards the door. Vittorio sighed, but he stood up after Harry. "Signor, it is not in our custom to let a guest go out into the rain when he has no place to stay. Stay here for the evening, I insist,"

Harry stalled at the door. "I guess I could. Thanks for everything Vittorio; I owe you a lot,"

"It is my pleasure Harry. I come to you as a friend now, since after tomorrow I will not be your valet anymore anyway." Vittorio smiled.

But if you think you are going to go home and forget Signora Granger after everything that's happened, you are dead wrong. He thought to himself.

A/N: School is almost done for us, and it's only a matter of days before I can regularly update. I hope you're enjoying the story so far, because I know I'm enjoying it myself. By the way, for the fans of 'Stolen Kiss' by PrincessPatty and me, I will be putting up the sequel veryvery soon, so please stick around for that. There have been loads of requests for a sequel, so I just had to oblige. You can find that story on as well, just type in the title. Please email or review and tell me what you think of this chapter!


	10. Resolutions

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! There are just a two more chapters left of this story, and it will be done. There has been so much heart into this project, especially where the emotion and the experience is concerned. In this chapter, Ron is one of those characters who single handedly backhands Harry in the face with everything he's ever done to Hermione, and manages not to ruin his perfect model's manicure. It's almost like a Kate and Leopold ending, but I'll stop here because I may say too much. Enjoy!

CHAPTER TEN 

Harry blew a smoke ring through his nostrils, and settled deeper into his couch. The ash dropped off the butt and onto the carpet as he leaned over and picked up the beer bottle on the floor. He sighed as he took in the new state of his flat, obviously not caring whether the obsessive habits of a lifetime had failed to reflect themselves in the past week. Dirty clothes were strewn around the chairs and tables, his suitcases were still unpacked, boxes of half-eaten takeaway littered the floor, and there was a faint scent of stale alcohol in the air. He had been home from Italy for almost a week now, and it would be a few more days until the Quidditch fields would open again. So he had holed himself up in his flat, drinking and smoking the time away.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the door. Harry ran a hand over his unshaven chin and groaned. The last thing he wanted now was some nosy reporter asking him for what happened. "Go away, dammit!" he shouted at the door. The banging stopped, but there was a faint sound of a spoken word and the door clicked open. Ron pushed the door open forcefully, leaving it to bounce off the wall after he strode in.

"Oh my god. Mum would have a bloody fit if she saw this! Harry, what's happened to you? You're more slobbish than I am now!" he exclaimed, wrinkling his nose at the smell and the sight of the flat. He focused on Harry, still seated in his easy chair, smoking. "Speak for yourself Ron; what happened to your face?" he indifferently asked. Ron was now sporting two black eyes and a swollen jaw. "The left eye came from Hermione, the right eye from Vittorio. You gave me the jaw," he shrugged. "You deserve the jaw, but why did they punch you?" Harry slurred. "Hermione hit me after I explained what had happened. She only remembered you hitting me then running off. Vittorio hit me again after he saw Hermione crying out of her office. I swear, she can't drink worth a damn. But enough about that; Harry, what the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped.

Too mellow to care, Harry just snuffed out the cigarette and answered, "It's over Ron. There's nothing in this world I want to go after except Quidditch. You can't trust anyone anymore. I could throw you out of this flat, but I don't care whether you go and steal all my girlfriends because I don't care about anything anymore. So just take that and shove it down your throat."

Ron stood up as if Harry hadn't spoken. "Like it or not, I'm going to explain my side of the story. But I can't have you drunk while I'm talking," he said. He walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out random ingredients out of the cabinet. He also took out a cocktail shaker, measured the ingredients in them, and shook them all inside. He poured it into a glass and brought it over to Harry. He pulled the beer bottle out of Harry's hand and shoved the glass in its place. "Drink that."

Harry raised the glass in a mock toast. "To Ron Weasley, who was once my best friend. May others never have the misfortune to take this bloke as their own best friend," he said. Ron rolled his eyes at the insult, but watched as Harry downed the drink in one go. He set the glass down on the table, and about a minute later, made a mad dash to the loo to be sick. Ron grinned slightly to himself; the 'drink' was actually an antidote to extreme intoxication. When Harry came staggering out, Ron stood up and helped him sit down. "Fuck Ron, what was that?" he asked, gripping his head.

"That was a secret recipe. But now that you're in a right state to listen to me, allow me to explain. First of all, Hermione is very much in love with you. In case you haven't noticed, she's always been there for you. For every single girlfriend, for every single win or loss you've had with your Quidditch games, and even with school, she was there. She's been in love with you since second year for crying out loud! How is it possible, that you didn't notice that?" Ron asked.

Not waiting for an answer, he plowed on. "I had just finished taking a shower when Hermione came to the door. She looked terrible, almost as if someone had broken her heart. I poured us some Firewhiskey and asked her to talk. You should have heard her, because all these things just started pouring out. Things I didn't even think were possible started revealing themselves. There was a lull in the conversation, and then she just came on to me. Kissed me, I mean. Harry, I swear, I didn't kiss her or anything. She was the one who didn't know what else to do about things,"

No longer inebriated, Harry just sat quietly on his chair, thinking. On some unconscious level, he had been only the slightest bit aware that Hermione was in love with him. She was kind of hard to read, especially where emotions and feeling was involved. He always took her for granted because he knew that she had nowhere else to run. He thought he knew Hermione until Ron had spoken to him. "Tell me Ron, why should I believe you? You're already the most sought-after male model in the world, so why should you want to just let go of Hermione when you can have any other girl you want? Unless of course, there was something else you wanted to tell me?" Harry sarcastically said. Ron held up his hands. "I had the feeling that you would say that. Frankly, I don't know what to say to make you believe me, but I'll tell you this much. She actually had a boyfriend before she saw you again. He was the perfect man, from what I've heard. You know the type, the one who buys loads of fancy jewelry and takes her out to these expensive restaurants and shit. It seemed to be the perfect romance until she caught her boyfriend in the kitchen with her headwaiter. And they were doing loads more than just stirring up soup," he shuddered.

"But when that happened, she never mentioned a word of it to me. Unless you're a complete robot, I guess you'd be flooding your best mates with owls and phone calls about the whole story. Knowing Hermione, she's anything but. She also has all these magazines about the National Quidditch Team of England in her office, but she's not a huge Quidditch fan herself. My guess is that she's been in love with you all this time, but she figured that if she found herself another guy, she would forget about you. Apparently she hasn't. Not even Vittorio thinks she's ever forgotten about you, particularly since you and her have gotten a lot closer when you were in Italy. She loves you Harry, more than you will ever know," Ron continued.

Ron's words hit Harry like a club against a wayward Bludger. There was so much he had screwed up beyond fixing. "Damn Ron…I've lost her," he sighed, gripping his face in his hands.

"No you haven't Harry. You can still go after her. I spoke to Vittorio again, and he agreed reluctantly to help me get you and Hermione get back together. He mentioned that a French franchiser was looking to expand Villa San Lorenzo into France and in England. The papers have already been in motion for over a year now, and the final contract signing will be done here in London. She will be in town in three days; it's up to you to make your move." Ron said.

Something sparked inside of Harry. It was strong and clear, and it cleared the smoke and alcohol out of his brain. "Ron, I have to go after her. She's the only one I've ever felt this way for, and Vittorio was right. You would know if you found the one you are willing to give up the world for. I've found it in Hermione, and I can't let her get away," he said, getting up and pacing around. Ron let out a huge sigh; at least Harry was convinced of the sincerity of his words.

"I'm glad that's over. Look, I'm really glad you're up and functioning again, but can I please just offer to clean up your flat? The mess is too much for even me to take." Ron said. Harry turned on Ron with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I guess you could. The smell's getting a little strong," Ron took out his wand and waved it at Harry's unpacked suitcase. "Look, you just take a shower. I swear, not even a locker room at your Quidditch pitch could pass you in smell. I'll get this cleaned up for you," he said. Harry disappeared into his room to take a shower, feeling lighter than he had in days.

When Harry had come out, the flat was sparkling neat and it even smelled good. "Wow Ron; who would have thought that you'd be any sort of domestic nut," Harry grinned, looking around. "What can I say? Pine Fresh has always been a favorite smell of mine. You're looking happy," Ron answered. Harry stretched. "I'm in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, yeah I'm more than a bit chuffed. Look Ron, I'm sorry about the jaw. I guess I was just so angry…"

"S'all good mate. I completely understand. I'd do the same thing if I were you. You're just lucky I was given a break by the agency, so I have a fair few months to heal this up. Otherwise, I would have give you something not even a Bludger could do," Ron said. Harry smiled at Ron and gave him a quick jab in the side. "Great to have you back Ron,"

Three days later, at the London Hilton 

Hermione was pacing back and forth past the ceiling-to-floor mirror in the hallway. She was never particularly good at speaking in front of a large audience, and just the thought of it was making the butterflies inside her stomach go on spin cycle. She wiped her sweaty palms for the nth time on the skirt of her gown, and tried to catch a breath while reviewing her short speech in her head. The way she was feeling now was almost like the way she had felt when she waited for Harry near the stairs when he took her out for dinner. But she pushed that thought away as soon as it came because it would be stupid to think of Harry while she was in front of all those people. She didn't need that kind of distraction right now.

"A few more turns on that carpet, you're going to end up with a huge burn mark in the middle," a deep, teasing voice said. Hermione's head snapped around and she saw Ron. She stopped pacing right away. "Ron! What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, more surprised than irritated. "Vittorio told me that you'd be in town, so I decided I'd come and visit. You know, for moral support," he replied. Hermione took in his bruised face and made a _tsk, tsk_ sound. "You look terrible, but you know you deserve it. Have you spoken to Harry?" she asked, almost automatically. _Damn, I did not mean to do that_, she snapped at herself.

Ron was nearly about to open his mouth to answer when a tall, burly guy came out of the ballroom and motioned to her. "Miss Granger, if you don't mind. They're waiting for you," he said. Hermione turned to Ron quickly and said, "Stay near the door; I might throw up my dinner in front of everyone," Ron nodded, "Sure 'Mione. Now get there and knock them down,"

Hermione disappeared through the doors and made her way to the podium amidst all the clapping. The speech was going through her mind and she was already starting to get nervous from the prospect of talking in front of all these people. It was damn nice of Ron to show up now to support her, at least he would be the one who would help her out of there if she ended up hurling her dinner out from nervousness.

Once the clapping had died down, she took a breath and looked around. All these expectant faces were looking at her. "Uh, hey. Good evening everyone. I'm Hermione…General Manager for Villa San Lorenzo," she started. They clapped a little for her. "Uh yeah. Thanks. Well, as you know, you are all here for the signing of contracts between Le Beau Franchising and the Villa. This collaboration allows us to spread the Italian feel of home all throughout Europe. We will be starting construction on our new branches in France, and soon, in England,"

There was a big round of applause at the prospect. "The Villa has been world-renowned for its homey atmosphere and vibe. It is what makes it so successful, particularly because the Italians have strong foundations in their family life. It is a well-known fact that Italians are very fond of their families, and we wish to extend that to the rest of the world," she continued. She took a look from her notes, searching for Ron. She was doing this quite smoothly now, but she needed to see a familiar, reassuring face. She looked by the door and saw…

Harry, standing by the threshold of the door.

For a second, her brain lost connections with her mouth. What was he doing here? Did he even know what he was doing to her brainwaves just by standing there?

He looked tired and dulled out but there was something different in those lovely green eyes of his that showed more than just platonic admiration or anything else. She tore her gaze away from his face and mentally scanned her brain for what she was to say next. "Signora, are you alright?" Vittorio whispered from the front row. "The…familial feeling that the Villa expresses in its service is the product of our efforts to make every visitor feel that he is loved and cared for, as in a family," she managed. The whole room was silent now, hanging on to her every word. "And I am glad that Le Beau is willing to help us expand the friendliness and love of the Italians to more parts of Europe because the world needs a little more love these days. And if we could all just love like the Italians do, I guess we wouldn't have so many problems anymore would we?" she asked the crowd, directing the question more to Harry than to them.

"And so…before I leave, I would just like to applaud Le Beau Franchising and Villa San Lorenzo's willingness to spread the love, more than just the hotel industry. Thanks and good night," she finished. Vittorio helped her get off the stage; she was shaking so hard now. "Vittorio, did you know that Harry was going to be here?" she asked. He did not seem surprised that he was there, but neither did he deny it. "Signora, your future is standing by that doorway. A man like him will never come again, so it's your choice to go after him or not," he said, chucking her under the chin in a fatherly sort of affection. She looked into his face and saw that he was right. It was time she let Alex go and let her heart accept what she already knew was for her. "Thanks Vittorio, for everything," she smiled, kissing him once on the cheek before making her way through the crowd.

Harry had left after her speech. Her words were simple, but they hit him hard. Ron was standing outside the door when he went out. "Did you see her?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Yeah, I did. But I don't think she ever wants to see me again; I did too much to her already." He sighed, hanging his shoulders. Ron felt his gut wrench. "Harry, did you even talk to her? Just wait for her to come out…" Ron pleaded.

"No Ron, it's all over. I have to get back," Harry said.

Hermione made a mad dash to the exit. Her heels were tripping her up, and the skirt of her gown was in the way, but nothing was going to keep her away from Harry, especially now that he was so close.

"Bye Ron, I'll see you around. It's the Quidditch finals soon; I'll send you some tickets when I get them," Harry said before making for the exit. Ron waved lamely back and let out a gust of breath. He was quite disappointed at the turnout of things because he knew that those two were meant for each other. He turned around to summon the valet when Hermione came dashing out at him. "Where is he? Harry, has he gone?" she frantically asked. "Hermione! He just left, he thought you didn't want to talk to him again!" Ron incredulously said, holding her arms. She looked wildly over his shoulder. "He what? Ron, you have to help me find him!" she said. Ron looked behind him and saw that Harry was standing at the entrance of the hotel waiting for the valet to bring his car around. He was a good thirty feet from where they were standing, and he would have gone by the time Hermione got to him. "Hermione, he's standing outside. You cannot let him leave you, do you understand me?" he instructed.

"Loud and clear. Ron, thanks for everything." She smiled. She started running towards Harry, but her heels got in her way again. "Goddamn heels!" she cursed before kicking them both off, hitching up her skirt to above her knees and running to Harry. She had to elbow off quite a lot of people to get to him, but it was her loud shriek that finally got Harry's attention.

"Harry!"

He was just about to slide into his car when he heard his name above the noise. His head jerked up, and he saw Hermione running full sail towards him. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and her elegant hairstyle was falling apart. "Hermione, it's you!" he said, running towards her. She crashed into him and he caught her. The words just kept spilling out, almost as if she had no time to get them out. "Harry, I'm so sorry about what happened with Ron but I just couldn't stop myself and I had four glasses of Firewhiskey but I just want you to know that I love you so much Harry and if there's anything I can possibly do to make up for what happened I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you as long as I get to spend eternity with you. Please forgive me Harry, I love you so much," she said in one long breath. She looked up into his eyes, half-expecting him to shove her away or at least ask her to repeat what she had just said. But instead, he looked down at her with all the love in the world, brushed a wayward piece of hair off her face and cupped her cheek. Her eyes started to tear up at the tender gesture. "You're probably not going to believe me when I say this, but I've been subconsciously in love with you too. You are such an important part of my life, and I've forgotten what it's like to not be in love with you. To have you gone would probably kill me. It doesn't matter anymore if you've kissed Ron because I've done worse to you. I'm sorry I gave you so much misery over this, but I want you to know that I have found in you the one person I am willing to give up the world for. I'll even give up Quidditch so we can live in Italy and you can continue working at the Villa. Anything Hermione, I'll give it up for you," he said.

People were starting to gather around them. A few photographers had their cameras out and were about to take their pictures when Ron stopped them all saying, "Leave them alone you lot or I'll give you a face that looks worse than mine," he growled. Of course, none of them wanted to cross him, not after a look at his face.

Tears were spilling out her eyes now, smudging her mascara. "You would do that for me?" she asked. "Of course Hermione. And I'd love to spend eternity with you," Harry smiled before lowering his mouth to hers. Their first kiss was gentle and sweet, like a first kiss ought to be. In it was an unspoken promise of a lifetime, to love and cherish and care for. Hermione knew that she had found her other half, and that he felt the same way for her. Her whole lifetime of hopelessly pining after Harry had now come full circle, knowing that it hadn't been a lost cause after all. Harry felt complete, now that he had Hermione in his arms and in his life forever. He found the perfect woman, one who was both smart and breathtakingly beautiful, and one he knew would love him back for who he entirely was.

When they pulled back from each other, Harry had mascara smudges on his cheeks and lipstick smears around his mouth. Hermione smiled at him through her tears, and Harry grinned back while wiping away a tear from her face. "I love you 'Mione," he whispered. "Love you too Harry," she whispered back. He picked her up and twirled her around once, laughing and crying and kissing at the same time.

"Okay you two, that's quite enough. I'm having a bit of a job here, keeping all these people off," Ron called to them. "Right. We'll reserve this for another time," Harry said, lowering Hermione. She kept her arm around Harry's waist, and she jokingly called out to Ron, "Ron, you're always such a dear. Would you mind very much if you just brought my shoes with you?"

"Not at all," he gritted out, sounding like he did. Harry opened the door to his car and let Hermione in. "Ron, thanks so much. When you get out of there, drinks are on me," he called. "I just want a Screwdriver through your brain," he mock-threateningly said. Harry gave him a jaunty salute and drove off with Hermione.

A/N: Ahh…sa wakas! Now you know what happened with Harry and Hermione. What do you think? Is it too cheesy? Do email me or review and let me know what you think.


	11. Epilogue

A/N: Here it is guys, the final chapter. Does an epilogue count as a chapter? Anyway, I'm glad you've all been enjoying the story. It's been almost a year since I started writing the first chapter and looking back at each and single one, I've seen myself grow both as an author and as an appreciator of the written word. To each and every one of the reviewers, thanks for taking the time to read and to review and to let me know what you think. Your opinions have helped this author grow, so take some credit for yourselves. You'll be hearing more from me too, as I will be regularly updating my other story, the one with Oliver Wood in it. Love you all!

EPILOGUE 

"And it's Liam McQuarrie with the Quaffle…zooming down the pitch to face Keeper Sanchez. He pitches…it's a goal! Score is now one hundred fifty to one hundred fifty. England and Mexico are now tied up in the Quidditch World Cup, and none of the Seekers seem to have spotted the Snitch yet," the announcer boomed out.

Harry was up above the action, watching for signs of the little golden ball. The Mexican team was proving to be a worthy opponent, and they were playing with all their strenghth. The Chasers and Keepers kept scoring equal points on each other, and the only way a winner was to be determined was if a team caught the Snitch first. His stomach was churning in his gut and he gripped his broom handle harder. The Mexican Seeker followed him up and down the pitch, a common Seeker tactic. Somehow he had to figure out how he could possibly spot the Snitch without being spotted by his opponent. He soared up to above the stadium, tucking himself neatly in a corner just in case the Snitch happened to zoom by.

"Alright Harry?" Robert yelled from the goalposts. He waved at him, and nodded. His grip on his broom was now turning his knuckles white; he HAD to make this catch.

"Seeker Potter of England has not seem to have spotted the Snitch! He is hailed as the savior of the team, usually making the deciding catch when the game is at its most climactic point. Where'd the Snitch go Potter?" the announcer asked. Sweat was now running like a waterfall down his back and his fingers were numb. He zoomed once around the field, and then descended to the levels of the Top Box, where Hermione, Ron, and Vittorio were sitting. He managed to pass by them, and when he did, Hermione smiled a little at him.

He smiled back, even managed a wave. But the look in Ron's eyes was what got his attention. His eyes got wider and he started flapping his arms like a crazed chicken while pointing to a spot over Harry's shoulder. Harry looked in that direction, and saw the Snitch floating lazily through the air just fifty feet away!

He turned his broom into a swift 180o turn and began zooming his way to the Snitch. He could feel the blood pumping in his ears, the sweat rapidly drying off his face as the wind whipped him…and his stomach churning when he saw Sanchez flying towards the Snitch from below.

It was a grand race for time. The Snitch was flying rapidly away from them, and it managed to turn a corner around a goalpost. He and Sanchez were now level with each other, both arms outstretched to grab the Snitch.

"Have a gander at this folks! Potter has finally spotted the Snitch! He and Sanchez are ABSOLUTELY level with each other, both extremely talented players. They have equally matched brooms…and their technique is superb. It all depends now on the circumstances folks, are you watching this?" the commentator squealed into his wand.

Harry and Sanchez were chasing the Snitch at top speed…both were level…and it did not show any signs of slowing down. Suddenly, a huge gust of wind blew across the stadium and both Seekers found themselves flying against it. Their brooms slowed down considerably.

"Whew folks, that's one thing that will definitely hinder them. Just feel how that wind is DRAGGING them!" the commentator said.

Drag 

A long ago Physics lesson clicked into Harry's mind. He flatted himself against his broom, kicked off against a goalpost and shot ahead of Sanchez. The wind was blowing the Snitch off course…

…and straight into Harry's hand.

The cold metal of the ball felt like manna from heaven. The crowds went wild, and he could hear his teammates howling in glee. The Spanish team flew back together, and he could see Sanchez hanging his head.

"And Potter makes ANOTHER of his spectacular saves, thus winning the World Cup for England. England goes wild! A good game from Mexico, showing admirable teamwork and strength. Let's hear it for the National Team of Mexico everybody!" the announcer yelled. A wild cheer rose up from the Mexican side of the stadium, as well as the English side. The winning team took a victory lap around the stadium, and when they had completed the turn, they shook hands with the Mexican team. They were all good sports about it; Sanchez even managed to give Harry a hug from his broom.

"Everyone'll be expecting us at the after party in a bit. C'mon, let's get cleaned up. I hear there's going to be a keg of free Firewhisky, courtesy of the Three Broomsticks," Robert said, hovering next to the team. They all nodded in agreement, so with a final wave to their opponents, they zoomed off.

Once they touched down, Harry said, "You guys go ahead and have fun. I've already promised someone I'd go hang with them after the game,"

The team hooted at Harry. "Someone Harry? Looks like the three weeks in Italy DID do you some good, eh?" Hugh grinned. "Better than you know Hugh. And I suppose I have the lot of you to thank," Harry smiled. They ribbed each other, but Harry waved off. "I've got to go; she's waiting," he said. He walked away with the whole team whooping behind him.

Once he got changed, he walked through a secret doorway used to make hassle-free exits out of the stadium and into the deserted parking lot. Hermione, Ron, and Vittorio were waiting for him. "Good game Harry," Hermione said, walking forward and giving him a kiss. He responded to it, and even lifted Hermione off the ground while holding her around the waist. "Thanks luv," he whispered. When he put Hermione down, he put on his sober face. "Thanks a lot for your help Ron. If it weren't for your manic reaction to seeing the Snitch over my shoulder, I would have never spotted it. Cheers!" Harry grinned.

"You sure I can't be a Seeker?" Ron grinned back. "You have as much chance of it as I have being a supermodel like you," Harry said. "Not a very good chance then. Signora Granger would give you hell about it," Vittorio hinted in his mysterious way. Hermione laughed at that. "Indeed I would," she said.

Harry bent his head and growled in her ear, "I have plans for you, Signora. And they don't involve Quidditch or anyone else. Shall we leave now?"

She blushed at the insinuation, but maintained a straight face. "Alright then. Ron, Vittorio, we have to leave now. I'll see you back at the Villa okay?" she told them before allowing Harry to open the car door for her.

Vittorio put his arm around Ron's waist and said in his sexy voice, "I'll be back late, if ever Signora. I'll see you at work" Ron smiled down at Vittorio and asked, "Shall I oblige with the details?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and nearly burst out laughing. Ron and Vittorio had reconciled about a month ago, and soon discovered that in their case, reconciliation had gone a long way. They were insanely happy together, and they always proved to be quite fun to bring along when they went out on double dates.

"No thanks you two. But have fun anyway," Harry said. He slid into the front seat and when he started the car and began driving away, Hermione commented, "Will you oblige me the details of your plan Harry?"

"Not on your life. You're just going to have to find out Signora," he winked.

She slid back into the seat of the car. "That I will Signor," she replied.

FIN!


End file.
